Falling into the Sun
by Ms. Audrey G
Summary: Kotoko begins to question her relationship with Irie. Falling in love is good and all, but when it becomes so obvious that her love is being wasted for a man who cares little for her, she begins a process to change. AU/Anime based.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Itazura na Kiss will never be mine. Let's agree to that, shall we?

**Setting: **College setting. I believe it's the beginning of episode 11 of where he is studying to enter the medical field—that is where my story takes place.

**Warning: **Light cursing. Light sexual suggestions. Oh, above all, I will not use –chan or –kun. I rather not mix two languages.

* * *

**Falling into the Sun**

Kotoko played with the edges of her dairy, a gift given to her when she was young by her father. The pink cover was decorated with a few heart stickers with a thread of white lace glued at each corner. It screamed a blare of femininity, especially from a man's perspective.

The drapes were spread apart, letting the sun enter and brighten the room. She leaned back from the table and took in each detail, each belonging that was not her own, sitting quietly in their perspective places. The queen-size bed rested at a corner, near the windowsill, that carried different colors of throw pillows. There was a dresser nearby, big enough to fit all her undergarments and other personal things.

She then noticed the attaching mirror, secured on top of her chestnut dresser. Near the bed, a pink rug lay, fuzzy and warm to her feet when winter came. And where she sat, an oval table was set in the middle, a couch lay behind her.

None of this belonged to her. Not one thing. It made her realize how much of a stranger she was to this house. She tore away from those thoughts, not wanting to break another tear. Enough tears were shed since this morning.

She moved her eyes toward her diary. It laid all her secrets, each memory describing her youth up 'til now. She idly flipped it opened, and read each passage, each word that began to describe her love to one man. Her eyes narrowed at the thought, the space between her brows wrinkled.

The love she had for Irie began to rattle with concern. She never doubted her love before, but now… Now it was different. All those times she listened to his insults began to settle in her mind, making her optimistic personality shaken with pessimism.

If only she hadn't ripped apart the important document of Mr. Irie's, she wouldn't have been sitting on the ground, reflecting her personality. But ever since she found the paper he sought all yesterday, she felt overwhelmed with guilt when Irie continually put her to shame. It didn't matter to him if she found it; no, what matter to him was to put her on blast for being stupid.

These things weren't meant to happen to her. She was supposed to be living a happy life, while trying to gain Irie's love. Instead, she was facing the ultimate humiliation of being subjected of living in misery, including the fact that he messed with her feelings as if it meant nothing to him. And it did mean nothing to him. While she remembered her first kiss with him as one of her fondest memories, he trashed it as a disease.

Those words he told her yesterday, "You always come out as a disappointment,"made her want to hide her face and save whatever pride she had left in the closet. She was accustomed to his negativity of her. It always made her think that beyond the insult he loved her, dearly. How foolish she was.

An immediate change was in order. This character of hers—always crying, being taken advantage, and constantly being degraded—needed to come to an end. It _had_ to come to an end.

She shut her dairy to a close with her mind set on changing her behavior. Then, she realized she was being drastic with her decision. Although, she managed to save Mr. Irie's documentation by taping it together, she began to see how strenuous her attempts were to alleviate a man's sorrow. That should be proof enough that there was nothing wrong with her personality.

Irie was simply mad at her because she had made a small mistake; a mistake that did not drag to a problematic concern for the company. With lady luck on her side, she saved the company from falling into a mess, and cheered up an old man's sorrow. There was nothing wrong with her. In the future, she would have to be more careful to examine what she picked off the ground, that's all.

And his statement of yesterday of being a disappointment meant nothing. It's perfectly natural for Irie to react the way he did. She would've acted the same if her father lost a documentation needed for whatever purposes that might save his restaurant. She would've acted the same way if Irie had shredded it apart. Although, it was hard to imagine him ever making a mistake that she had a hard time believing her imaginary.

It didn't matter. The issue was solved. No need to dwell on the past.

She stood up from her spot and headed toward the empty bathroom, which she shared with the two boys. As she brushed her teeth, she noticed her appearance. Her red-hair was tied in two buns, a few tendrils slipped and dangled in a frizz. She then noticed her pink two-piece pajamas, an ensemble of a long-sleeve shirt and pants. She contemplated whether a college woman like herself should be wearing this. Matsumoto Yuuko must surely be wearing a sophisticated nightgown to enrich her beauty. Surely, Naoki would prefer her in bed.

She didn't know why she thought of Matsumoto Yuuko. Perhaps, it was the fact that Naoki preferred her. It made her quite jealous how simple a beautiful woman like Yuuko can easily gain the cold Irie Naoki's attention. She always struggled; he will never give her the time of day, unlike Matsumoto.

Kotoko pushed the thought aside and began to drift her mind to other things. One of those things led to an image of Irie half-dressed, lying comfortably on his side, curling a finger seductively for her to join him on the untidy bed. The black comforter that he possessed would've been thrown carelessly to a side. The white sheets would appear messy and bundled to the right corner of the bed. As for Naoki, he would only be wearing a pair of black pants left unbuttoned for her to take off.

The erotic daydream made her drool when he slipped a hand down his chest and toward his unbuttoned pants. She shook her head away from her fantasy and focused on the present. She really needed to stop listening to her friends about what they learned from listening to others about sexual relationships.

Besides, Irie wouldn't want her. He already rejected her once, and she would be horrified if she dare made any sexual advances to gain his attention. Many girls her age were sexually active. It was a common thing to occur in college. Although, Kotoko can never see herself in a sexual relationship; she prefer marriage first, sex after. It's what her father taught her, and it's what she would imagine her happy ending to be, sharing her first time with the man she loved.

And for a long time she thought Irie Naoki would be the man honored to be her husband. But it was a silly dream that she conjured up when she was a teenager. She realized that Irie was never her prince charming.

Her father always told her that, out there in the world, there was someone for her. Even if Irie was not the man for her, there was that hope that someone out there was desperately searching for her. She rubbed the tears from her cheeks and took in a deep breath, to soothe away the despair.

She never understood why everything affected her. It's not a big deal that Irie was not meant for her. It wasn't the end of the world. Still a small part of her wished that he gave back the sentiment; after all, they kissed. Didn't that account for something?

In the end, it didn't. He still treated her wrong. And she still hoped that he felt something for her. Besides, he hardly even knew her. Likewise, it could be said about her.

She left the bathroom and headed into her room to dress. Looking at each garment, she harshly pushed one aside followed by another and another. None these seemed appropriate for her to wear. Matsumoto clearly had bettering clothing than she. She needed to update her closet to look more her age.

Then she frowned. Never before did the sight of her clothes bother her. She could care less what others thought of her clothing ware. The whole thing with Matsumoto being the perfect woman for any man began to get to her. She needed to stop thinking about her and concentrate on getting dressed.

Still she found nothing satisfying to wear that she threw some clothes to the ground in frustration. Everything about today was beginning to upset her. And it all started the moment she began to remember what Irie had told her.

"You always come out as a disappointment," chanted in her head, consuming her whole and making her loathe the image of herself. She forced her mind from thinking about the event and grabbed a white top and a pair of pants. She undid her hair, combed it gently, and hurried down the stairs to the sweet invitation of food greeting her in the air.

Unfortunately, she stopped descending and noticed Irie mindlessly sipping his cup of tea, eyes drawn to today's newspaper. By his side, his little brother, Yuuki, watched her from the corner of his eye, half-raising the spoon from the bowl. Slowly, he brought the spoon to his mouth and resumed eating, without bothering to greet her.

She took the empty seat across from Naoki. There was already a plate of food set for her. Pancakes with strawberries on top coated with maple syrup and a sprinkle of blueberries scattered around made her mouth water at the delicious sight. Mrs. Irie spoiled her rotten, and it was no fact that she'd brightened Kotoko's day by serving her favorite sweet.

She cut a piece with a knife and fork and placed it in her mouth. It made her mouth tingle at the taste of pure delight. She hummed approvingly and closed her eyes in bliss. It was then when she opened her eyes that she noticed the stares she received from the two brothers. She swallowed her food in a struggle, not liking the way they stared at her.

Yuuki twitched his nose in disgust and resumed eating his bowl of cereal. Irie blinked his eyes once and looked away, muttering under his breath, "Repulsive."

Never before had she felt uncomfortable of herself in front of them. She cut another piece slowly and took another bite. The food no longer satisfied her.

She continued to finish it and dabbed her face clean with a napkin. Drinking her orange juice, she felt Irie watching her when she placed her cup back down. She couldn't help but break into a smile. Irie never stared at her before. She felt giddy, knowing that he watched her with those impassive gray eyes. Then she thought of yesterday and pondered if he was still angry about his father's documentation.

Surely, he had forgiven her.

"Irie, what are you planning to do today?"

Today was Saturday, a day to relax and have fun. Well, for her at least. He, on the other hand, looked rather peeved by her question and drummed his fingers on the table with a hand supporting his chin. He watched her for a moment longer and looked away. The newspaper he was engrossed in a few minutes ago was folded neatly by his side.

"If I told you, you would make it your mission to bug me."

She rubbed the back of her head, chuckling nervously.

"That's not true."

At the same time, both brothers looked at her with an expression that clearly read, "Yeah, sure right." She slouched in her seat at the silent accusation. It seemed nothing was going her way. Determined to fix the day, she sat straight up and gave him an optional suggestion.

"Well, later when you're not busy, we could hang out." He stared at her in silence. "It'll be fun," she pushed a little.

He rolled his eyes. "Sure it will. It will only end up in a disaster."

"I promise I won't do anything stupid." She sounded pathetic begging him to hang out with her.

"No thanks. I rather not let you ruin my day."

"But—" she continued to persist.

He firmly stated, "No. I don't want to hang out with you."

She chapped her lips and nodded her head. Her emotions weren't going to get the better of her. Crying in front of him was unacceptable. He will only ridicule her more than necessary.

She pulled herself together and said, "Okay. It's just a suggestion."

Irie made a face of disgust. "Don't suggest it again."

He stared at her for a few seconds, watching her expression calmly take in his unbreakable wall. A soft smile touched her lip. He made a noise with his throat that sounded like _humph. _Pushing his seat back, he stood and left toward the stairs. Her eye caught the sight of Yuuki watching her intently.

She picked up her glass of orange juice and sipped. Yuuki watched her for a moment, narrowing his eyes. He then stuck out his tongue as a farewell to her. Following after his brother, Kotoko slumped in her seat and circled her index-finger around her glass cup.

She chuckled for a moment.

This day sucked.

xx

"Kinnosuke, what do you see in me?"

After the rather disappointing exchange between Naoki and her, she simply had nowhere else to go but to her father's restaurant. Kinnosuke was rather thrilled to see her as he pulled out a seat for her and prepared her a special meal made out of his own hands. He soon then found it disappointing that she was rather refusing to eat.

He pushed her to eat it which in turn she stated back that she ate breakfast before she came. His shoulders sagged, despair claimed his face. He was prepared to throw away the meal when she stopped him by saying that she would save it for later. At those words, happiness was brought to his expression; although, it didn't manage to reach his eyes.

He still hoped that she would taste his food at the very moment.

When she questioned him for his opinion, he began to lean over to her with adoration, patting her head softly. Kotoko grimaced and pushed his hand away. His overly affection drove her mad sometimes. No wonder Irie refused to talk to her when she acted in the similar fashion as Kinnosuke. It made her want to puke at her disgusting behavior.

Oh, goodness, Irie's baritone voice began to fill her head with words of discouragement: "Idiot," "Stupid," and "Failure," were shooting down her barely sustainable cheeriness. The moment she heard his voice, her happiness evaporated as a dark cloud loomed over her head instead.

After this, she promised herself that she wouldn't bother Irie at all. Irie was studying for his entrance exams for the medical field. She couldn't help but be in awe of his efforts of greatness. If it wasn't for her, he would've never taken interest in being a doctor—well, that's what she hoped to be true.

"Kotoko?" a voice called her name.

She blinked her eyes and looked at Kinnosuke. She had easily forgotten that she was waiting for his response to her answer. Although, she expected him to repeat the same, old pointless reasons of why he loved her—that she was perfect, determined, lovely, and, overall, a beautiful creature that graced the earth. The overused expression of his face lighting up in admiration and love was directed to her once more.

"I see my lovely Kotoko who is too good for _anyone with a bad heart_ to have," he answered after she regained her composure. Though she knew that his emphasize around, "anyone with a bad heart" pertained to Naoki. She faintly smiled at the thought of her friend trying to claim her heart. His success of winning her affection was slim, but he continued with all his might for her to notice him. It's strange. She felt rather sick seeing him that way when his actions easily reflected her own.

"Kotoko?" He appeared worried.

With a smile, she pushed away his doubts of concern, and offered a different approach to her question, "What do you see lovely about me?"

He tapped his chin with an arm resting across his chest, a metal spoon still grasped in his hand. His pensive expression brought a sad smile to her face. Kotoko knew the answer would not be satisfying to hear.

"That you're determined, smart, and caring. You're also eager to get a career—even though, I already told you that I can support you if you consider my love." There was a note of desperation in his voice, one that Kotoko ignored for the sake of his feelings.

"Those are attributes." Kotoko juggled in her head another approach to her question. She desperately wanted to hear his answer now. "I mean, why do you like me? Do you know me enough to say that you deeply love me or do you say you love me because I'm pretty and caring?"

He looked at her strange, not fully understanding her question. With an eyebrow raised, and both hands placed in front of him, he subjected himself to ask, "Kotoko, are you feeling well?"

The redhead should've known that the answer she sought would never be addressed. She sighed and slump her shoulders in defeat, muttering that everything was fine. He didn't believe her for a second, but couldn't further communicate with her when her father shouted at him to get back to work. Kinnosuke instantly served a bowl of food to a customer as his eyes glanced every so often to the girl he loved.

Kotoko, meanwhile, began to eat her meal, slightly cringing that it tasted cold. She laid the chopsticks to rest, and stared at her beverage. The answer she sought for Kinnosuke left her dissatisfied that she wondered why. In all truth, however, she just wanted an excuse to continue falsely believing that she knew Irie inside and out, and questioned Kinnosuke to see if he knew her completely well in return.

It was like a test, sort of. How much does the other know of their love one—that was the question to her test. It seemed Kinnosuke knew nothing about her, aside from her caring nature. And as she started thinking about how much she knew Irie, she began to realize that she only knew his personality as well. His goals, his passion, his view on the world… She knew nothing about.

Asking for a box to take her meal home—if she could call it that—she left the restaurant in disappointment with a multiple sighs leaving her lips at the cofound hatred she had at herself.

Today was really not her day.

xx

Noriko Irie always knew how to brighten Kotoko's day. She made Kotoko feel special, constantly reassuring her that Naoki would fall in love with her when he fully opened his eyes. After all, she was the perfect girl for her intelligent son. Forget that she wasn't book smart, didn't know how to cook, let alone do anything right, what counted was her personality. But can she really say that personality can win a man's heart?

She cringed when she came to accept that Mrs. Irie was indeed making the situation between her and Naoki worse. Kotoko began to have second thoughts of entering the kitchen, but her action was far too late. Mrs. Irie noticed her entrance and pulled her by the hand to teach her how to cook a fourth time. When will her possible future-mother-in-law come to understand that she and cooking did not blend well together?

"This time, Kotoko, I am certain that you will prepare a wonderfully made meal for my son."

She clapped her hands together in glee, eager for Kotoko to get started. Aihara hesitated and glanced between the unprepared fish to the pan. In the end, she lifted her hand and grabbed a knife—well, that is what she thought she should be grabbing—and hearing no objection from Mrs. Irie, she began to slice the fish.

Mrs. Irie prepared the white rice, meanwhile.

Kotoko attentively looked to Noriko's direction before she spoke, "Mrs. Irie…"

"Please call me Mama," Mrs. Irie interceded, stirring the rice with one hand and pouring water with the other.

"Mama," Kotoko began again, "what makes you say that I will be a good wife for your son?"

A smile appeared on her face. She placed the lid on top of the pot, and directly looked at her.

"A mother knows what's best for her son," she answered. Kotoko frowned. That wasn't the answer she was looking for.

"What if Naoki doesn't love me, but another? Would I still be considered the best?"

She instantly regretted mentioning her son possibly not loving her when his mother went into hysterics, lamenting over the fact that she failed as a mother. Kotoko needed to stop her from wailing when the rice began to overcook. She shut off the fire, and removed the pot from the stove. It took a few minutes to calm her down, and insisted that it was a rhetorical question.

Mrs. Irie grinned and puffed Kotoko's cheeks. "You are the best that Naoki will ever have." She resumed aiding her with the fish, making sure that Kotoko impressed her son with her ability to cook. However, at the moment, Kotoko didn't care if her meal came out decent.

For the first time ever, she felt angry at Mrs. Irie for not properly answering her questions.

xx

It was seven at night when dinner was ready. She had the responsibility to retrieve Noriko's eldest son, a demand to have them bond at every single chance. She doubted that Naoki would be delighted to see her when he constantly regarded her as a pest. Kotoko jogged up the steps and approached his bedroom door, taking a breath of what she anticipated inside. She grabbed the door-leveler and knocked before she pulled it down and entered.

He did not acknowledge her presence and continued to busy himself with his studies. She looked around the room. Everything was spotless. It was nothing like her messy room. Two beds were aligned against the wall, each in opposite direction. There was a desk beside her, no doubt Yuuki's area. Next to the foot of a bed, a bookshelf covered with many books stood near the corner of the wall and the window. And right next to that, Irie sat on his desk, reading.

"Irie, dinner is ready," she informed.

He flipped another page, ignoring her like always. She let her eyes flick to right of her. Irie's bed was kept clean. His dresser was stacked next to it. If she hadn't moved in, Yuuki would've a more spacious room than how it looks now. As she looked around, it looked crowded with many things.

"I will be down shortly," he said after seconds past. He moved his elbow to lie on top of his desk, resting his chin on the palm of his hand.

Kotoko was about to leave the room when he spoke, "Where did you go today?"

She furrowed her brows. It wasn't like him to instigate about her whereabouts.

"I went to my father's restaurant."

He skimmed through the page and flipped to another. "You should go there more often," he stated bluntly. "I get things done without you pestering me."

Humor went detected in his tone of voice. He was laughing at her in his own insulting way. She restrained the urge to smack him behind the back of the head. It was unlike her to display violent behavior. She wouldn't start now.

Then realization hit her. She was in his room, able to discover more about his passions in life. It was the perfect opportunity, not only for her, but for him to know more about her as well. She decided she would test him first of how much he knew about her.

She turned to Irie, hesitating to take the first step. He kept studying the medical book he had laid in front of him. He was hardly paying attention to her. That wouldn't do. She needed his attention. Slowly, she began her approach toward his desk and stood to a side, back given toward the bookshelf behind.

He took a glance at her. "What is it?"

She twiddled with her hands and nervously glanced to his stern expression. The angular of his jaw was relaxed to his mood. She basked in the radiance of his charm and intelligence.

Determined, she asked, "Irie, what's my favorite color?"

His face was apprehended by confusion.

"Why should I care about a pointless matter?"

Her heart tore a little.

"Well, I am just curious to know if you knew."

A frown took his lips.

"I don't know your favorite color."

She laughed nervously with her arm stretched behind her. It was becoming her signature mark of when she became nervous.

Her laughter settled down. She honestly admitted to him, "I don't know yours either."

A bucket of disappointment fell on top of her head.

Naoki was rather silent, as he flexed a finger and turned the next page, his eyes glued to every word that he could absorb. She lowered her hand and took one step closer to his desk.

"Irie, what's my favorite band?" she asked another question, easier than the last.

The creasing between his brows never ceased.

"I don't know."

Her heart tore a little bit more. Not even an easy question like that was answered. Another step was taken. His slouched form and his mahogany desk were within reach.

"Irie…" She swore she could see a vein throb on his forehead. "…what do I hate the most?"

Again, he responded, a bit forcibly this time, "I don't know."

Her heart tore into two. A last step was taken. Her hand slid on the desk, the feel of the smooth texture greeted her sweaty palm with acceptance to be her support. She felt faint.

"Irie…"

She never finished what she was about to say when he slammed his book shut and glared at her.

"I don't know your personal likes or dislikes." He stood up from his chair and stalked out of the room. Kotoko follow behind slowly, her head hung low, her shoulders sagged, and closed the door behind her.

Today was a nightmare.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Her bed was a mess. The sheets were sprawled on the floor. The pillows were stacked on each other, one missing a pillow sheet. Even the comforter was bundle in a corner tangled with the missing pillow sheet—she still couldn't recall how that happened last night. In the end, she didn't feel compelled to fix her bed.

Then she looked at her hair through the vanity mirror. Compared to her bed, her hair was also a mess. She blew at a piece of hair clouding her vision and tried to pull the brush out of the knot. It tugged the roots on her scalp and made her wince. With a frustrated sigh, she left the brush in her hair and sat in front of her vanity mirror.

It was going to be another bad morning.

She didn't want to remember what happened yesterday night either. Either way, the memory came to her mind and she bitterly remembered Naoki laughing at her failed attempt to make a decent meal out of chicken. Her food had looked like a bubbly blob when she served it to her father and the Irie family. It made her wonder how she'd managed to do that.

Irie's family, and even her father, refused to touch it. They all feared food poisoning.

She didn't blame them. She would've done the same.

Concentrating on the present, Kotoko tugged the brush out of the knot, and successfully, although painfully, pulled it out with a few hairs tangling around the black bristles. Her scalp throbbed in discomfort. She was hoping that the rays of the sun would peck her on the cheek and bring delight to her gray world; but instead she met the ground in a resounding thud and moaned when she banged her head against the dresser leg.

If Irie had seen her in this state, he would've been laughing himself to tears. Seeing her in misery was his thrill in life. He loved the way she pouted and cried at everything that brought her in pain. The man was the epitome of what the term 'sadistic' meant.

She set the comb down and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was frizzed and unappealing. Extreme displeasure ran through her veins. Picking up the straight iron, she began to fix her hair—until she carelessly touched the rim of the hot surface and dropped it to the ground unintentionally. Damn that stung. She blew at her wound, hoping to reduce the stinging.

Picking up the iron, she resumed with her earlier task; although, she was a bit careful now. As she examined her appearance when she finished straightening her hair, she concluded that it appeared decent. Still she hated it all the same.

The clothes that she purposely left on the floor—again, she found nothing satisfying to wear yesterday—was picked up and saved in her closet. Mrs. Irie must've seen the mess and saved her things. Kotoko felt bothered by that. It was her mess that she needed to clean up, not Mrs. Irie. Mrs. Irie already did so much for her.

She opened the closet and grabbed a pair of skinny jeans to go along with her red, black polka dot top. Fixing her hair into a high ponytail—since having her hair set down bugged her to an extent—she took a step into the hallway and descended into the dining room.

Once again, she was greeted by the sight of Yuuki eating his bowl of cereal and Irie reading the newspaper. Neither gave a greeting and she didn't bother making one herself. She took the empty seat in front of Naoki and ate her breakfast that his mother prepared for her. Like always, her food tasted like heaven.

"Will you be going to practice today, Irie?" It was a stupid question to ask him, knowing that he never went unless he wanted to, but her curiosity relentlessly clouded her mind. Besides, it never hurt to ask. Well, she hoped that he didn't respond rudely.

He took a long sip of his tea before he answered, "Possibly."

That answer was good enough for her to take. No need to push him for a clearer answer. She finished the food on her plate and took a gulp of her orange juice. The day was starting to get better before Yuuki opened his mouth.

"Why are you in the tennis club?" he asked.

She blushed, while thinking of a way to answer him without praising her love for his older brother in front of his face.

"I wanted to play a sport that I can be good at."

Yuuki gave her a long stare and refused to comment. Naoki, on the other hand, felt amused and met her eyes.

"I thought you joined to be closer to me." He rubbed in her face.

She twiddled her thumbs, mumbling under her breath an incoherent jumble of words that neither brother could make out.

"It doesn't matter. You fail at both."

Her heart shattered into a billion of pieces. He merely smirked.

His words triggered her oncoming pout as she slumped into her seat and watched as he headed to the main entrance to put on his shoes. Yuuki took a glance at her. He evinced a face of indifference, lips settled into a straight, tight line. He pushed his seat out, its legs scrapping against the tiles. His farewell to her was the sound of his footsteps departing up the stairs.

Being the last to leave the table, she gathered up the plates and set them in the sink.

"Kotoko, you're going to be late!" Mrs. Irie vocalized. She softly pushed her out of the kitchen and turned her attention toward the dirty dishes.

Kotoko thanked her and left to join Irie. However, by the time she got to the main entrance, she discovered that he departed without her, noticing his missing shoes.

Typical of him to leave her behind. It was nothing new, however. And somehow it didn't affect her as much.

xx

She was near the tennis court. It lay around the corner. The autumn leaves rested near the brink of the sidewalk. Some crossed in front of her due to the light wind, hearing each dead leave crunch underneath her white tennis shoes. It was the beginning of September. The weather felt cool against her skin, not humid when summer governed the city she lived in.

It was perfect. Shame, though, since October was a month away, bringing snow. She might as well cherish the precious weather before it grew cold.

Kotoko dragged her feet toward the gated-fence when it came to view. She noticed the others already stretching, ready to start their exercise for the day. She held the strap of her bag tightly. Another day of playing a sport she wasn't good at it. No matter. Practice will eventually get her better—she hoped.

When she saw the court area in the line of her vision, she let out a sigh when she noticed Matsumoto Yuuko already dazzlingly a group of men with her perfection. She walked closer, never taking her eyes off the beautiful woman.

Matsumoto dropped the ball and letting it bounce toward her hand twice. She then threw it in the air and brought her racket to meet the ball in one simple stroke. It bounced toward her opponent, Yuna, a woman older than her by three-years, sporting short hair and pale complexion, as she shot back the ball toward Matsumoto.

Matsumoto smiled. And Kotoko knew, since she played her before, that every time she smiled it meant defeat for her opponent. No wonder why Irie found her attractive as she continued examining her. It wasn't her beauty that caught his attention; no, it was her determination, her confidence, which won his heart.

Well, she was assuming that Irie was in love with her or something like that. Or maybe he simply admired her as woman but held no feelings for her. That could be a possibility as well.

Although, the most obvious possibility could be that Matsumoto was a perfectionist like Irie. Both were similarly alike in every way. If Irie ever considered dating her seriously, their relationship would last for a long time.

She stopped and leaned against the fence, watching Matsumoto execute another perfect shot. She then glanced toward her opponent and grimaced when Yuna hit the ground in attempt to hit the tennis ball back.

"Aren't you going to practice?"

The voice from behind her made her jump in fright. She looked back, petrified with a hand glued to her chest, and stared at Naoki's emotionless expression with an eyebrow arched.

"Y-yeah, I am."

"Hurry up," was all he said.

She followed him with hearts in her eyes. She couldn't believe it that he came to see her. She slapped her forehead, earning a frown from Naoki. He probably thought she was strange for doing that, but she felt foolish thinking that he came to see her.

It was plain obvious why he was here. Her eyes flicked to the right. Yuuko had him wrapped around her finger.

"Irie," Matsumoto greeted.

She approached him with her racket pressed against her shoulder blade. Sweat was barely evident on her forehead. The game was far too easy for her. Kotoko knew Matsumoto needed a challenge for her to experience a full workout. Sudou crept from behind her with his silly grin.

"Irie!" Sudou greeted, excitedly.

Behind his forced grin, Sudou was dripping of jealously. Irie was not only a great tennis player, but he stole the heart of the beloved Matsumoto, something that Sudou could never forgive him for. However, he did needed Irie for future tournaments to represent their school. That's why he held back his jealousy to the point where it was only evident in his eyes.

If it wasn't because Sudou needed Irie, he would've pushed him away from Masumoto as far as possible. Yet, tennis was his livelihood; he needed Irie, no matter what.

Kotoko stood nearby, half-listening to the trio's conversation. They were hardly aware that she existed, for no formal greeting was given to her. It was alright. She grew used to being the shadow.

Surprisingly, or maybe mockingly, Matsumoto grew aware of her presence and gave her a smug smile.

"Aihara, how pleasant for you to join us." Sarcasm was detected in her tone.

Kotoko refused to enlighten her with a frown and plastered a smile.

"Ay, it's nice seeing you as well, Matsumoto Yuuko."

There was a smirk forming on her lips. Kotoko, in return, darkened her gaze when their eyes clashed with each other. Irie flicked his eyes toward the two, knowing that they were both fighting for his affection. Sudou, on the other hand, briefly glared at Irie before he began to laugh, lowering the intensity between the two women.

"A great day for a one-on-one match, don't you think so, Irie?" Sudou questioned.

Irie shrugged. "It's alright."

Turning away from Kotoko, Matsumoto smiled, eagerly setting her attention toward Irie. "How about we play a match? I need a challenge, and you need an opponent to meet your match." He took in her words, contemplating. "How about it?"

"Fine," he easily agreed. "I'll take you on."

She broke into a smile.

Sudou frowned and said, "Hey, I thought we were having a match!"

"I changed my mind." Irie looked at him.

"But—!" Sudou never finished his sentence when Irie turned his back and rested his bag on the bleachers. He stretched for a bit and moved toward the net, racket held securely in his hand.

Brokenhearted, Sudou glanced toward Kotoko. She was on the ground, stretching with her fingers placed on the tip of her shoe. Her bag was rested near a side, still unopened. She stretched the other leg as Sudou crept near her side, contemplating a plan to intervene on Irie's and Matsumoto's relationship.

"Aihara," he announced wholeheartedly, "Let's go join their match." He lowered himself to the ground, whispering, "After all, don't you want to play alongside Irie again?"

She thought on the idea.

True, she would be on Irie's side, being his partner like last time. And she has improved since their last match with Sudou and Matsumoto. However, she really didn't feel like joining him. Instead she preferred the secluded area near the tennis nets. It was an ample space, a brick wall stood in between surrounded by a high gated-fence.

She slung her bag over her shoulder when she stood up. Sudou rose on his feet, eagerly waiting with anticipation for her response.

"I'm going to have to decline."

He flabbergasted and took a step back. Regaining his composure, he pressed, "But—but this is the perfect opportunity for you to be with Irie again."

"It's also the perfect opportunity for him to insult me for being the worst player on the team." He didn't argue against that. "Like I said, I don't want to. I rather go practice by myself." She patted him on the shoulder, comforting him in the loss of being near Matsumoto. "You deserve better anyway."

She strode past him toward the other side of the court. He continued to stand in the same place, numbly taking in her words when she glanced behind. Then, slowly, he moved his feet toward his students, watching them for a short moment without a word of instruction. When a few minutes passed, and the numbing sensation faded into acceptance, he reacted strongly to her words and aggressively attacked the students by ordering more exercises to be done.

Her fellow classmates stared at her, pondering what she had said to their instructor. She politely gave a wave but declined from commenting about the rejected offer. They continued to watch her, some of them glaring, before Sudou caught their attention, barking orders for them to do. They did with haste.

In her own little world, far from the tennis nets, she stared at the brick wall and faintly smiled. This would be a piece of cake. Though, when she brought her bag to the ground and pulled out her racket and ball, she realized that it was far from being simple.

When the ball bounced toward her, she came to accept that she wasn't fast on her feet. On the second try, she also came to accept that she swung the tennis racket far too early or far too late as the ball whizzed past her. She needed to concentrate and assess the proper timing to swing.

She grabbed a ball from the ground, noticing a few balls resting around the perimeter of the fence. It seemed a few students were practicing early before Sudou arrived. The ball bounced back to her hand when she dropped it to the ground. Bouncing it one more time, she threw the ball into the air and swung her racket to meet it.

It bounced toward the wall and returned to her. She swung her racket, miscalculating its approach. It flew past her racket easily and bounced toward the fence behind her, where it came to a stop. She marched toward the fence and grabbed another ball.

She exhaled a breath and threw the ball into the air. She swung her racket too early. The ball landed on her face as she groaned and placed a hand on her slight injury. There were a few giggles heard in the background. She glanced toward the sound and noticed a few girls huddled together as a group, giggling around Irie.

He had his eye on Kotoko. Most likely, he made a joke about her inability to swing a racket correctly. She ignored him and concentrated on practicing. Again, she heard the giggles. She glanced toward their direction and noticed Matsumoto chatting with Irie, handing him a water bottle, most presumably his.

She bounced the ball. The giggles were heard again. Irie probably made another joke about her. She could feel her eyes water at being humiliated. A tear cascaded down her cheek. She wiped it away and paid attention to the ball in her hand.

_Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. _

She inhaled and threw the ball in the air. This time, her racket met the ball when she swung. It bounced toward the wall and came back toward her. She ran to it. Her racket met the ball as it bounced toward the wall once more. It approached toward her again. She failed to hit it a second time.

More tears continued to spill. She was crying in frustration. The damn ball was hard to hit. Then, with those stupid giggles heard in the background, she deeply hated all of her classmates for making her feel incapable to achieve.

No matter. She grabbed the ball from the ground, proving to all of them that she was determined to prove them wrong. Throwing the ball in the air, she swung hard. Again, she missed hitting it when the ball returned.

_Why!_

She failed to hit the ball a second time.

_Cant!_

The ball hit her in the face when she swung too early.

_I!_

The third time was not her charm. The tennis ball rolled to the fence. She stomped her way toward it.

_Do!_

She whacked the ball with all her might. It bounced and hit her thigh.

_Anything!_

She threw the ball in the air.

_Right!_

It descended. She hit it with her racket. The ball bounced off the wall and approached her. She put out her arm and swung her racket. This time, her racket met the tennis ball as it flew to the wall again.

She began to grow a pattern, dashing and meeting the ball each time. For a while, she thought herself to be improving, but nowhere near Matsumoto. Eventually, she failed to hit the ball on time, but that didn't bring her down. Instead, she smiled.

It seemed she wasn't a failure after all.

Once again, she scooped the ball from the ground. And when she turned, she noticed she had a small group, consisting of three people, watching her from behind the gated fence that separated her area from the nets. She ignored them and made her way toward her spot in front of the cement wall.

"Hey, Aihara!" Sudou called her. She didn't lift up her head and acknowledge him. She simply dropped the ball to the ground as it returned to her hand in one bounce.

"We're going to have a match and need one more player." She clutched the ball in the palm of her hand and listened. "Come on! Join us!" There was a note of desperation in his tone, but it was scarcely heard behind his excitement. It seemed, even after she refused him earlier, he still managed to believe that she would easily join their game.

No—she dare not agree to his wish, and partially her own wish to be near Irie. She shook her head and said, "No. I'll pass."

Sudou didn't hear her. "Hey! Come on! We can't wait all day!"

She turned and met his silly grin. By his side, Matsumoto looked at her with her arms crossed, an eyebrow raised. Her racket was secured in the palm of her left hand. She was certainly challenging her to take the offer. While by her side, Irie stood with that same blank expression, holding onto the fence with one hand, the other gripping his racket. Kotoko had to admit: he looked handsome with the way he was posing.

Kotoko forced a smile. "Nah, it's okay. I rather practice by myself. Besides…" She bounced the ball. "…I'm not really up to par with you guys. Why don't you ask…?" She looked at the girls in a group to a side. What were their names again?

Finally, she recognized one of them. Yuri—one of the girls in the group—was a nice girl, quiet, and petite. Kotoko greeted her a couple times, but never fully engaged in a conversation with her. Her cropped, black haircut framed her delicate, pale face. Kotoko noticed her black eyes tentatively looking toward them.

"Why don't you ask Yuri?" All three looked at the girl that was mentioned.

Sudou scratched his cheek in confusion.

"If you are certain…" He began to approach Yuri.

"Aihara, how thoughtful of you," Matsumoto commented. She called Irie to follow her, but he didn't budge.

Kotoko took a fleeting look at his direction. His intense gaze was locked with hers. He cocked his head slightly, unnerved to find those calculating eyes taking in her doubtful expression. She looked away from him and resumed bouncing the ball before she threw it in the air. She hit the ball back and forth, keeping up a good rhythm. She felt a chill run down her spine. Irie continued to look at her with that penetrating gaze.

Finally, he pulled away from the fence. She could clearly hear him say to Matsumoto, "Perhaps, we'll finally have a good match."

She missed hitting the ball and watched it spring toward the fence behind her. Picking it up, she was determined to continue practicing, not letting his words affect her. With each hit to the tennis ball, she felt relieved. With each breath, she felt that she was conquering her flaw.

She realized, when she noticed Irie playing alongside Yuuko—Sudou must have protested, but didn't manage to convince her to play on his side—that she didn't need his negativity when his words only managed to bring her down and make her doubt her abilities. She found his lack of presence to be soothing.

Although a part of her missed having his presence around her, she found herself not regretting joining his side. Perhaps, one day, she would lose feelings for him. But as of right now, she completely ignored her feelings and concentrated on improving her tennis skills.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Time went by in a haste, until she realized that a week slithered past her shoulder. She pondered where the time went, and how it managed to escape past her fingers so easily. Being devoted to college, and attending tennis practice, she was hardly aware of anything around her anymore.

College was soon becoming a routine for her; a routine that was vastly important to attend. She should've been more studious when she was younger. As she looked at her transcript, she regretted that most of her grades reflected her poor attendance. If only she was more serious into her work as she was now, she wouldn't have these regrets.

Tucking the sheet away into her schoolwork folder, she saved the folder away, along with the rest of her important documents, and moved toward the door. It was seven in the morning. She was growing a nasty habit of sleeping late. Tiredly, she rubbed her eyes and yawned a bit afterward.

"Good morning, Kotoko," Mrs. Irie addressed her.

She snapped her attention toward the older woman and gave her a greeting in return.

"How do you feel today?"

"Fine," Kotoko answered. "I feel fine. And yourself?"

Mrs. Irie stopped in the middle of the hallway along with her. She raised her hand and moved it to a side then to the other. "So-so. I just—Irie is a good boy at heart. He doesn't mean hurting you."

Along with her busy schedule, Kotoko also took the liberty to ignore Irie. He insulted her daily, like a game of some sort, of her lack of intelligence. She grew tired of being teased, no matter if it was a joke or not. But knowing Irie, his words were never taken as a joke. What he said was either to be cruel or blunt or both.

As she looked at his mother, she could understand her situation. Torn between her son and her adoration toward Kotoko, Mrs. Irie could never choose a side. That is why she constantly tried to repair the damage to their relationship—although, what relationship did Kotoko have with Irie? They weren't exactly friends, and she knew that even though he took advantage and planted a kiss on their graduation day, it didn't mean that they were dating.

She trailed her eye past Mrs. Irie's shoulder as she continued speaking, hoping to change her mind on her view of her son. At the corner, near the top of the stairs, she noticed Yuuki peering from behind the wall, silently hiding from his mother's view and hers.

He knew he got caught. She knew that he heard everything. He kept his eyes locked with hers intensely, not wanting to budge from his spot at first. But when his mother caught her attention elsewhere, she followed her eye. Yuuki quickly descended down the stairs before his mother could catch him as well.

"I'll try talking to him." She gained Mrs. Irie's attention immediately. It seemed she saved Yuuki's skin—though the little twerp did manage to slip before he got caught. "I'll try."

Mrs. Irie quickly grabbed Kotoko into her arms and quietly sobbed in happiness.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Pulling Kotoko away from her gently, she pattered toward the boy's room and entered with a knock to the door. Kotoko sighed, knowing that she had to keep her word of trying to speak with the insufferable Irie. But that was a matter she could deal with later. At the moment, she turned on her heel toward the bathroom door.

Locked. She jiggled the knob. The damn door was locked.

Great—she tapped her forehead against the door. Just great. Her morning breath was beginning to bug her.

Leaning away from the door, she slithered to the ground and rested her back against the wall. She counted the seconds, trying not to think of the full bladder that was waiting to explode. After ten-slow-agonizing-seconds, she was about ready to burst down the door.

She needed to think of something else. Irie was the first person that came to mind when it came about pondering. How she thought about him constantly. No wonder her grades were lacking. Love—how it blinded her. Irie was beyond the prince charming she deserved, but she kept insisting that he will change into the prince that she wanted, if only she kept trying to change him.

Yet, no man likes change. We are perfect, they say.

You know, as she began to reflect on Irie's character, what makes women be attracted to bad boys? As an example for her to relate, Irie (bad boy) was the one she was in love with, while Kinnosuke (obsessive, but a good guy at heart) constantly parade her with compliments. However, Kinnosuke wasn't exactly a good-boy-type either.

She rested her chin on her left palm.

No wonder she was a mess. She'll be lonely until the end of the world with a hundred cats to keep her company by chasing after the bad-boy-image-type. Although, she had to admit, when she looked at Irie in admiration, bad boys were quite handsome.

Then realization washed her over. Irie had left the bathroom. She'd the opportunity to use the restroom. Feeling the pressure in her bladder, she got up from the floor and headed into the bathroom.

He stopped her from closing the door when he greeted, "Good morning, Kotoko."

She looked at him and forced an awkward smile.

"Good morning," she mustered quickly and shut the door with a bang. Relieved emptying her full bladder, she grabbed her toothbrush and put toothpaste on top. It was when she began brushing her teeth that she realized that Irie spoke to her after a week of silence.

What motivated him to speak to her? Could it be that he actually cared about her that he missed the sound of her voice? She shook her head lightly and moved her brush to clean the top part of her mouth. As far as she knew, he missing her was out of the question.

Heck, as far as she knew, he hated her, at times, for destroying his perfect lifestyle. Sad—since he hardly had a life to begin with. Whatever, though, he'll regret it. He'll regret being cruel to her. Kotoko just didn't know when he'll regret it.

For now, even if his attention negatively ruined her mood, she still loved receiving his attention, in some strange way. It made her heart flutter at the sound of his voice being directed toward her. How he would describe her every flaw, and push her buttons, but no matter how much his words brought a rise of anger inside of her, she felt special that she received his attention—or so she thought. When Matsumoto came in the picture, his words were no longer affectionately wanted when someone else was receiving a different treatment from her.

Everything that she wanted Irie to feel about her was directed at Matsumoto. She could hug his arm affectionately. She could speak to him freely without being insulted. She could probably even share the same bed with him without him being disgusted of having her near his body.

Everything that she wanted Irie to do to her, it was given to someone else. And she hated that. After all these years of living with him, she thought things would change. Sadly, nothing changed between them, aside that he grew accustomed to her presence. Being accustomed is one thing. Being tolerate is another, and he had none of that toward her.

No more. She will not have it anymore. Then she questioned—how many times had she said that she will change when she never followed through? Today had to be the first step, even if the step was small. It still counted as a change.

She left the bathroom, while shutting the door behind her. Passing by the boy's room, she glanced inside and found Yuuki putting his books inside his backpack. He stared at her when she stopped in front of the door's entrance.

"I'm busy. What do you want?" he asked her rudely. He broke the eye contact first and began putting the next book inside.

"I can ask you the same thing."

He kept quiet and placed the backpack down, zipping it closed.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Hesitation gripped him for a moment. "You should hurry up for breakfast," he advised her, almost kindly that it left her baffled.

He slipped by her quickly. She could hear his footsteps stomp loudly against the stairs. There was something wrong with that boy. She couldn't put her finger on it. Pushing his odd behavior aside, she retreated from his room and entered the hallway.

Back in her own room, she fixed her hair in a ponytail and placed on a pair of jeans with a ruffle black-shirt. She then headed down the stairs into the alluring invitation of breakfast greeting her on the table. She took her regular seat in front of Irie and took a bite of her breakfast. Heaven burst into her mouth in small particles.

"Are you heading to practice today?"

She raised her eyes and met Irie's rather calm expression. Finding it a bit unnerving to find his attention on her, she shook her head and resumed eating.

"Where are you heading then?"

"I have a counselor appointment at that time."

He frowned. That was a sight to behold. "Counselor appointment? You could've arranged it for another time so it won't mess with your schedule."

Kotoko swallowed her food. "I wanted the first one available," she explained. "Besides, it's my first time missing tennis practice. It's not a big deal."

"The first time will eventually lead to several more until you are kicked out of the club," he reasoned.

"I won't get kicked out," she argued. "You make it seem I'm going to do this often. It's just a one-time thing."

"Knowing you one-time isn't enough."

"I'm not going to argue with you. I have a lot on my plate at the moment. I don't have time to deal with you." She took another bite of her pancake, ending the conversation.

Irie laid the newspaper to a side and watched her through those half-lidded eyes. Slowly, a corner of his mouth tugged up in a lopsided smirk, his eyes taking in a mischievous glow. She didn't like the way he was looking at her. His expression clearly read that he had something up his sleeve.

Picking up his cup of tea, he took a sip, eyes still locked with hers. She picked up a piece of toast and spread jam across. She was trying with all her might to distract herself from his stare, but not even taking a bite of her toast helped her from looking into those gray eyes. Thankfully, she relaxed when Yuuki spoke up.

"I thought you wanted to play a sport that you were good at."

She smiled fondly.

"I do want to play a sport that I'm good at." She could hear a retort approaching from Irie's direction. Quickly, she added, "I'm lousy with tennis. But like every great athlete, practice is a must to get better."

"And are you getting better?"

"Somewhat." She took a bite of her toast. It crunched in her mouth.

Irie placed his teacup down. "She hasn't improved. Not even by a long shot."

She glanced at the time. 7:30 met her eye. Pushing out her seat, she excused herself and headed up the stairs. Arguing was the last thing on her mind, not when she was worried about the counselor appointment. Her grades were slipping; she had to pick it up.

When she reached the top step, she heard Yuuki say, "Do you like her?"

Silence.

"Why do you ask that?"

She listened with baited breath.

"I heard something stupid a week ago." His brother wasn't going to ask him what it was so Yuuki continued, "I heard that boys pick on girls they like."

"Who told you that stupidity?"

"Mother."

"She doesn't know what she is talking about."

"Mother's not stupid." Yuuki sounded enraged.

"I didn't say that." Irie picked up a small temper as well.

"Well, Mother is usually right, even though what she says doesn't make sense at time." Silence. Yuuki spoke once more, "Even if what she said sounded stupid, it still makes sense."

"What makes sense, Yuuki?" Irie snapped.

Hesitation. Nervousness. She could hardly tell what kept Yuuki from speaking. Then, picking up his voice to match with his brother's, Yuuki said, "That you like her."

Anger in retaliation to his words shook the bottom floor with hate. She even felt it reach up the stairs, shivering her to the bone in fear.

"Mother doesn't know what she is talking about—neither do you." He pushed his seat out. The noise of his chair's feet scraped against the tile. "I need to get going."

"Mother is never wrong in what she says."

"What? You think I'm going to marry Kotoko in the end too?"

"No, I'm just saying that you like—"

Irie cut him off by loudly saying, "I don't like her so stop acting like Mother."

Hearing him approach the stairs, she dashed toward her room as quietly as she could and shut the door behind her with a soft click. Strange. She felt washed over with confusion. For the first time, Yuuki began to question his brother's reason. That was strange.

Yuuki questioning his brother? What was going on with the little guy?

Kotoko sighed and pushed the thought aside. She didn't have time to indulge in his oddness. There was a reason why today was a big day for her. She decided to enter the nursing field, and the best thing of all, nobody knew of her intention.

This was her big moment to prove to everyone that she could be smart enough to enter a challenging career. Although, her major wouldn't be considered a big deal to Irie's family—or she assumed it won't—she kept quiet from telling anyone on the pretext that Irie would presume she joined the medical field because of him. She didn't join because of him. She joined to prove to everyone that she wasn't useless.

She'll show them all.

xx

It seemed the path of becoming a nurse will be difficult.

She knew her bad grades from her first year would bite her in the ass. Now, she needed to make sure she passed her required classes with A's and B's. C's were no longer acceptable. It was going to be a hard road up ahead, but she was determined. She could already envision herself donning the white cap along with the nurse uniform when she accomplished her goal in the end. Stars sparkled in her eyes when she further envisioned herself saving a life, making sure all the patients were taken care of. She would be the best nurse ever, working along with Doctor Irie.

She froze at the thought.

Irie as a doctor, and she as a nurse. It would surely be a sight to see if they both were working along each other. A faint smile was on her lips before she shook her head and pressed her palm against her forehead. There was no way that they could work along each other when he would merely dub her as useless and insult her inability to become a nurse.

She became rather angry at the possible image that she ignored Kinnosuke's cooing when he bellowed her name throughout the cafeteria. He seemed to notice her distraught when she bore a scowl and narrow eyes. He then took notice of her balled fists trembling at her sides.

Hesitantly, he leaned forward and spoke, "Kotoko?"

She heard her name and looked toward him with wide eyes. Taking notice of where she stood, she messed with her hair and ignored the stares that she was receiving from everyone. She sheepishly chuckled and got closer to him.

"Are you alright, Kotoko?"

She waved a hand in the air. "I'm fine." She offered a smile. "Just a lot on my mind."

He didn't believe her with his concern expression still etched across his face. "Kotoko, are you sure?"

She nodded her head once firmly, and he didn't pursue to push her anymore. With a grin, he gave her a bowl of rice along with another bowl of soup. She was at the point of starvation of having missed lunch. She knew she should have joined Satomi and Jinko when they invited her to come and eat, but she got caught up following Irie when he went to library with Matsumoto by his side.

In all honesty, she didn't realize that she was following him until she actually noticed that she was in the library. She mentally sighed and picked up her tray. There will be no end to this if she didn't force herself to forget about him and concentrate on school. Her mind, and her heart, as cliché as that sounds, needed to concentrate on one thing: school.

She bid Kinnosuke farewell and took an empty bench to enjoy her meal. Kinnosuke's eyes watched her every movement. She felt bothered having him look at her, but when she heard another coworker shout at him, he instantly got back to work.

In silence, she ate her meal. The background consumed with loud chatter become her source of relaxation. There was no one in the world to bother her. Well, that is what she thought until Sudou sat across from her with his own tray in his hand. She gave him a greeting and continued eating.

"Aihara." He leaned a bit closer, looking both ways in reassurance that no one approached their table. "I have something exciting to tell you." He beamed.

She doubted it was exciting when all his precious thoughts and devotion concentrated on Matsumoto.

"What is it, Coach?"

He waved a hand in the air, refusing to be called coach. "Sudou is fine. After all, we are friends."

She felt awkward calling him that and being referred as his friend. Not that she would object to being his friend, but she didn't like having to deal with Matsumoto since he spent most of his time lingering behind her as a hopeless romantic. In the end, she forced a smile, and turned her head as he leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"There is a grand event tomorrow and I thought you would like to join." He pulled away and took a bite of his food. His smile reeked of a catch.

"Why?" she questioned.

"Irie is going and Matsumoto…"

She sighed. "What is it?"

"Everyone is heading to the beach tomorrow and I would like you to join us."

She knew that grin on his face. He wanted her to go to distract Irie from spending time with Matsumoto, even though _she_ was the one looking for him. She rolled her eyes and continued eating her rice.

"I'll think about it."

He grabbed her hands, dropping her chopsticks. His eyes were wide, his mouth pouted.

"Please come!"

He was making a scene with his shouts of pleading that she quickly accepted without wanting to bring unwanted attention. It was too late. Half of the cafeteria was looking at them as if something important was going on. She slapped her face and groaned.

"When you mean everyone who exactly is going?"

"Oh, a few members of the team, and some of their friends, are going. Matsumoto agreed to go as well." She imagined hearts in his eyes. "And Irie, of course." He winked at her.

"That's great to hear. What will we be doing?"

"Playing some volleyball."

He picked up his chopsticks and ate his meal, slurping the noodles in his mouth. She then turned away from him and looked at the clock above the cooking station. Practice should've started an hour ago. Returning her attention toward Sudou, a questionable expression took her feature.

"Sudou…" His name sounded strange to her lips. "…Isn't there practice today?"

He awed in delight when the last noodles disappeared in his mouth.

"Oh, I sent everyone a notice that practice is delayed." He looked at the clock. "As a matter of fact, it's going to start pretty soon."

"Why was practice delayed?"

There was a faint detection of pink on his cheeks. "Matsumoto couldn't make it until later."

The space between her brows creased.

"She said that?" Disbelief was clearly heard in her tone.

He nodded his head once. His expression went from happy to serious in less than a second. "She works hard to meet the best scores. She has too much on her plate that coming to practice is proving to be quite difficult for her. So I decided to postpone practice until she finished with a few assignments." He grinned. "I would do that for any of my players."

That was lie, one that she would rather not bring up. She began eating her soup.

"And Irie said that you'll be late and that it would be an unfair disadvantage if you missed practice along with some other things," Sudou grumbled.

A brow was lifted in response to his rambling speech. Irie making sure she attended practice? Bizarre, as it was unsettling, she couldn't help but remember Yuuki's little interrogation about Irie's feelings. It was a coincidence, that's all. He didn't delay practice because he liked her. Laughable—that's how she deemed the little coincidence.

She picked up her tray after she swung her bag over her shoulder.

"Are you heading to practice?" Sudou questioned.

"I really don't have my tennis gear."

"I got an extra racket I can let you borrow. As for proper attire, what you're wearing would have to do. Although, jeans doesn't really make you stretch as much."

"I can miss practice."

He frowned at the suggestion. "I didn't delay practice for nothing. Get to the tennis courts."

She groaned at her bad luck. "I was hoping for a break."

"Hey!" he snapped. "There is no break in tennis. Practice. Practice. Practice," he chanted. "You need to practice to be the best." He wagged his finger to make his point clear, and curled it away from her, when he sipped from his drink. "Get to practice."

It was a demand that she knew that she couldn't refuse. She left the cafeteria in a hurry, wanting to have time to see her friends. What she wasn't expecting to see after her exchange with Sudou was Irie strolling toward the cafeteria, Matsumoto lingering by his side.

She moved her feet when she realized she stopped moving and kept her eyes straight ahead. In her mind, she chanted, "_Don't look at him. Don't look at him_." Her eyes flicked to the right. Too late, he already took notice of her appearance.

"Aihara," Matsumoto greeted calmly. That was a surprise for once. Usually, the woman held that smug little voice, taunting her restlessly about her closeness with Irie. This time, however, she seemed rather nice to approach, not like her usual appearance that screamed you-are-not-worthy-of-my-time.

"Matsumoto," she greeted backed softly. "I'm heading toward the tennis courts. I'll see you there." She tried to move around them, not wanting to stay too long in their presence. With both of them together, the insults multiplied.

"Hopefully, we can have a match." Kotoko stopped in her steps. "You owe me one," Matsumoto continued.

She twirled on her heels and placed a hand around the strap of her purse. "Sure. I'm looking forward to it."

"I'll hold you to that." Matsumoto then entered inside the cafeteria, while Irie stayed behind, turning his full attention toward Kotoko. She felt a little unnerved that she was alone in his presence. Deep down, she was overjoyed, but knowing Irie he was never happy to see her.

"How was your appointment?"

She gripped the strap tighter. "It went okay."

His expression faltered to a slight concern. "Are you having trouble with your classes?"

She quickly threw out her hands and waved off the assumption. "No, I'm passing." _Barely_, her mind screamed.

Tucking his hands in his jeans, he walked past her and headed toward the tennis courts. She followed behind, letting her eye stray toward the scenery around her. Then she turned her eye toward his direction and caught the sight of his handsome face. Perfection certainly did run in his genes.

He never had to worry about his looks. He never had to worry about his grades either for that matter. She wondered if he ever struggled in his life to obtain the one thing he wanted the most or loved. Probably not.

He caught her staring at him and frowned. She shook her head and tore her eye away from his face. Apologizing, she focused ahead and noticed the gym up ahead.

"For the match, we will have to be partners again." Hearing the sound of his voice breaking through the silence caught her attention. She noticed his bland expression, never revealing his emotions as openly as she. He kept it secured under his cold stare. Smiles were ever rarely seen on him as she thought about it.

"I was hoping to be partners with Matsumoto." She paused and noticed a frown appearing on his lips. "It would be a nice change."

"I doubt Matsumoto would agree. Sudou would hardly agree to be your partner either."

"And you agree?"

He stopped in his tracks and looked at her. "I really don't have a choice."

Kotoko nodded in response and continued to move her feet. This time, he followed behind her.

"I really don't have one either."

He said nothing in return as they continued heading toward the gym in silence.

xx

Irie was picking up a bad habit.

He brought the clean shirt to his nose and sniffed. It smelled of her laundry detergent, the same smell that lingered on her clothes. He never thought that he would be reduced to smelling his shirts to simply think about her.

He pushed the shirt away from his nose and scoffed. Like a five-year-old in delight of having a piece of candy, he was getting excited over a piece of garment that Kotoko had washed. He really needed to get his mind straight and stop thinking about her.

After all, this wasn't like him. He didn't go and begin to have feelings for a persistent girl. No, he ignored those types of women. His job was to make them feel inferior to his unapproachable presence. He didn't need to complicate his life with their cooing and moaning of his impeccable looks. However—he narrowed his eyes and balled his fists—he made the situation worse when he kissed the very girl he was supposed to dislike the most.

And now he hated the urge of wanting to taste her lips once more.

He needed to stop from feeling—heck, he didn't know what he was feeling—before it grew out of hand. Yet, he carelessly allowed her back in his life when he approached her when she refused to speak to him for over a week. He was supposed to be thrilled to have her ignore him, but he felt immensely bothered.

Once more, he tolerated her bubbly personality by formally giving her a proper exchange of suitable words that were not cruel, and even threatened Sudou to make sure she went to practice. He even went as far to give Matsumoto an excuse to give to Sudou to delay practice, if the man did not listen to him. And, of course, in return for her aid, he would have to join her to the beach tomorrow.

Kotoko would surely go. Sudou probably already told her in attempt to execute his predictable plan of separating him from Matsumoto. To be honest, he really didn't care what the man did.

There was a tap on the door. He turned his head toward the intruder that entered the room. It was none other than his little brother setting his backpack down and grabbing a fresh pair of clean clothes to shower.

"How was school?" Irie began the conversation. He was still mad from this morning when Yuuki began to question his feelings toward Kotoko. He did not like Kotoko. He just tolerated her a bit more than before.

"Okay. The teacher went over things we already knew. We're having a test tomorrow that's why. He didn't want us to fail. I doubt we will." Yuuki shut the drawer and slung the towel over his shoulder. He then faced his older brother, and clearly showed his doubtful expression.

"What is it, Yuuki?" Irie knew what he was going to ask. He was prepared for it, in fact.

"Mother is happy that you're talking to Kotoko again," Yuuki said.

Irie hummed in disapproval. Yuuki ignored him.

"I'm glad that you're talking to her."

That caught his older brother off guard.

"Why?" he demanded to know.

"Because it's less stressful around the house when you guys are talking," he said.

Irie didn't say anything on the matter.

He hanged up his clean shirt and saved his boxers in his drawer. He then moved toward the bed and lay on the sheets, resting his head on a pillow with an arm placed over his closed eyes. Exhaustion never hit him as heavily as it did today.

"Brother?"

"What?"

Hesitation drew from Yuuki. Then there was a sigh before his small steps headed toward the door. "Nothing. Just—never mind."

Before he slipped out of the room, Irie addressed calmly, "I don't like her, Yuuki."

His little brother didn't say anything in return to prove otherwise.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

The beach was packed upon arrival on a September afternoon. Children, younger than five, ran in groups, the parents shouting behind them, ensuring their safety. There were a few college students that she recognized from the university, which she gave a small wave towards them. They greeted her back with smiles.

Again, she let her eyes wander, taking in the area.

An elderly couple walked together side by side, their clothes ruffling to the light breeze, as a wave came in and touched their bare feet. She then noticed a jogger, exposing his bare chest, running in his tennis shoes with an headphone placed in his ear. By his side, his husky ran behind him, tongue sticking out.

She never presumed that Friday would be pack with people, especially on a school day where children and teenagers were getting their education. Then she realized that most of the students at her university hardly had Friday classes. Out of the four days, classes were hardly given on a Friday or Saturday.

Nonetheless, she was thrilled to be out, and away from the constant pressure that her teachers gave her. For once, stress was not eating her alive. She could relax among her classmates and enjoy a good game.

The sun hit her bare back against the cool breeze. Her one-piece swimsuit clung to her flesh like a second layer of skin. Kotoko took in the pleasant breeze and focused her attention on setting up the net. Instead, her eyes began to fall on Matsumoto Yuuko, who appeared to gain a lot of attention among her peers.

Men stopped and looked at her. Some, she believed, even drooled at the sight of her. Irie, when she glanced at him, seemed to have fallen under her charm—although, she could be imagining that through her heavy jealousy. Sudou, however, seemed ready to pounce and fight men from looking at her.

Matsumoto was the center of attention, barely paying heed to the other men. She was a beautiful woman, wearing a two-piece, polka-dot swimwear, which showed off her toned legs and flat stomach. She looked like a model on a page of a magazine with her arm strapped around the man she was trying so hard to impress.

And as Kotoko examined Irie's expression, she knew that Yuuko's charm failed in the end to capture his attention when he began to look around, ignoring her. The redhead smiled and looked away and focused on setting up the net with the help of her female companions.

Then she heard in the background Matsumoto's insisting, "Irie, it's a warm day. You should take off your shirt and relax."

She paused in her action, and slowly observed him with mild curiosity. Refusing at first, he did not seem incline to listen to her request, but when he turned his attention toward Kotoko, taking her curious expression, he seemed to have changed his mind. Kotoko wondered if he did it to tease her or for something more.

Pulling the shirt over his head, he revealed a slender stomach. He ran a hand over his stomach, applying sunscreen when Matsumoto gave him the bottle. She looked away when he turned his attention toward her. There was nothing admirable to look at. And she certainly did not pay attention to the small hairline that led to his distinguish part of being a male.

No, she definitely did not look there.

Withdrawing away from the net, she went in search for the volleyball and found it next to someone's backpack. She picked it up, twisting the ball in her hands. Light as a feather, she tossed it in the air. It dropped from the air and came toward her.

Not expecting Sudou to appear, she jumped when he swiped the ball from her hand and grinned.

"Sorry, Aihara."

He then called the group together. Gathering around the others, she was hardly aware that she stood next to Irie, until he brushed his arm against her own. She turned to him and found his eyes focused straight ahead. She followed his example and focused on Sudou.

"I'm team captain. Irie—" Sudou pointed a finger at him. "—you're one as well."

It was a challenge that caused Kotoko to sigh and roll her eyes. Sudou had to challenge Irie in everything, all for the sake to impress one woman, who hardly paid any attention to him.

Irie took his place next to him. Rolling his eyes in disbelief, he played paper-rock-scissors against Sudou to see who would pick first candidate. Irie won by sheer luck. Saddened by the loss, Sudou slumped his shoulders, and watched as Matsumoto joined Irie's side.

Kotoko patiently waited for her name to be called.

And she still continued to wait.

And wait.

Until she was the last person chosen and accepted in Sudou's team. She really hated being picked last. Still it shouldn't have surprised her. Irie would never pick her. She was, after all, considered the bad luck, and Irie could not afford to have bad luck on his team.

She clenched her fists. Bad luck was not on her side. She will show that to Irie and everyone else.

The sand settled in between her toes. She took her place in the last row, and allowed the others to serve first before her. She didn't want the volleyball—not yet. Irie stood in front of the row of the opposite team that she was not in. He gave her a smirk, ready to beat her team to oblivion. She eagerly wanted to wipe his smirk off his face, and make sure that her team won.

The ball was served and aimed toward her. She pulled out her arms, put her hands together, fingers interweaving with the other, and hit it. Instead of going over the net, the ball flew behind her. She chuckled nervously and turned slowly as it landed a few feet away from her. With a sigh, she hung her head in shame, unpleased at the direction the volleyball went.

What a way to prove that she was not bad luck.

She could hear Irie laugh in the background. Matsumoto joined him as well. She intensely glared at them. With fervor strength, she vowed to beat the both of them, but mostly Irie. It was her deepest desire to prove that she can be a challenging opponent to him.

The ball came back and hit her behind the head. She did not pay attention to the call from her teammates shouting, "Incoming!" Sudou shook his head, and muttered that they were bound to lose.

The ball was given back to Naoki's team. Ready to prove her worth, she let out a breath and heard the sound of fist meeting ball. She looked up, watching as it flew in the air and headed toward her direction. One of her teammates shouted, "I got it!"

The shrill shout was ignored. She automatically prepared herself to retaliate. She was about to use both of her hands to push it back into the air. The ball never touched her hands, however.

A teammate next to her bumped his shoulder against hers. Kotoko was knocked to the sand. She looked at her teammate, Hiro was his name, and watched as he tumbled to the ground, the ball barely hitting over the net. Irie hit it back. It was coming toward Kotoko once more.

This was her third chance. She had to take it.

She scrambled to her feet and aimed to hit it. Sudou got in her path, shoving her to a side as he managed to send the ball to the other team. Kotoko watched as the ball flew back and forth. She never had the chance to play when the others intervene in front of her.

Her blood boiled. It wasn't fair for her to be pushed aside. Hiro shot the ball back toward their opponent team. Matsumoto spiked the shot, palm resonating in a loud slap that echoed. Yuri lowered herself on her knee and knocked the ball back toward the opposite team.

Kotoko glared at Irie when he shot the ball back. Then, mocking him with his perfectionist, Sudou smacked the ball and earned a point for his team. Irie smirked, not finding his shot a threat.

Her team began to rotate. There was still a chance for her to play along with the others when she moved to the middle row, standing on the left side. Shun, one of her teammates, took his place as the server. The redhead turned the ball in his hand. He pulled back a fist and held the ball in one hand. And in one swoop, the ball flew to the other side, heading toward Yuna.

Yuna leaned forward and smacked the ball in the middle. Her teammate, Dio, was quick on his feet. He got down on one knee and shot the ball back toward them. It was a lucky shot, for it barely flew past the net.

Irie hit the ball back and directed it toward Kotoko. She took in a breath and called it.

"Got it!" she yelled. Hiro did not hear her when he took a few steps back. She crashed into his back, pushing the blond into the sand. The volleyball landed in a plop, resting near her fingertips. Irie's team began to shout in hoorays.

Hiro picked himself up from the sand and glared at her. "Aihara, call it!"

She got up quickly and returned the glare with one of her own. "I did!"

Hiro swiped the dust off his hands and returned his attention to the opposite team. He took the game too seriously at times. Winning meant everything to him. She glanced toward Irie, and could easily justify that Irie was the same way, only worse than Hiro.

She removed the dirt from her legs and brushed it off her hands. Ignoring the man in front of her, she listened to Sudou's demand, "Focus, Aihara," and placed her attention back on the game.

Irie's team was winning by a point. That was unacceptable for Kotoko Aihara. She would win at any cost.

Irie was next to serve. He smacked the ball as it flew over the net toward the direction of Kotoko. Sudou watched with fear. Hiro was about to move back and push her aside to save their team from losing. She did not allow that to happen because she swore she would be the one to save their team from losing.

"I got it!" she shouted.

She threw out her hands and bounced it back. It flew over the net, astonishing not only her team, but the opposite team as well. She couldn't help but smile at that. The ball flew toward Cal, a teammate on Irie's side, as he hit it toward Sudou.

Sudou easily smacked it toward the female player in the back. She saved the ball from hitting the sand and sent it toward Kotoko's direction. She bounced the ball back toward Irie. He kindly gave it back to her.

Hitting it one more time, her flesh stinging in red, she gained a point for her team when the female player in the back missed on returning it. Her team cheered and rotated the group. Now standing in the front row, she stared at Matsumoto, who stood before her, the net being the only thing dividing them apart.

The ball was sent and the game resumed on. Kotoko watched the ball fly toward Irie. He called it and sent it toward her location. Inch by inch, it flew toward her. She prepared herself and jumped when it came near. Smacking it hard against her palm, she sent the ball downward toward Matsumoto.

Matsumoto barely had the chance to hit the ball when it smacked her across the face, blood gushing out of her nose. She stumbled back and covered her nose with both hands. Blood slipped through her fingers and landed on the sand in dark spots.

Kotoko numbly watched the events unfold with guilt. She never expected that to happen.

The first person to react was Sudou. He scrambled and grabbed a towel and pressed it against her nose. The rest of Irie's team huddled around her, asking if she was alright.

Hiro shook his short hair and sighed. He looked at Kotoko and harshly said, "Great job, Aihara. No need to take the game so serious."

She ignored him and stared at Matsumoto. Her female companions muttered under their breath about her questionable hit. Perhaps, Kotoko did it on purpose, one said. They made up reasons, one after another. It only dampened her mood further than necessary.

And strolling toward her with narrowed eyes, Irie ducked his head under the net and stood in front of her. She looked up at him, cursing at him for being tall. She let her eyes wander for a moment. Sweat rolled down his chest. His swim shorts were barely sustaining on his slender hips.

"You should be more careful, Kotoko."

She raised her eyes back into his wrathful eyes.

"It was an accident," she said. "I didn't mean to do that."

"I have a hard time believing that."

"Believe what you want. I didn't mean to hit her. I got caught up in the game."

"You should apologize," he told her.

"I will if you get out of the way."

"You can move your feet around me."

She glared at him. "I should have hit you instead in the face for being a jerk."

"You would have tried."

"No, I would've hit you. You are nothing but inexcusable piece of trash that should've never been made."

"Funny that you say that. You are the one in love with this inexcusable piece of trash." He smirked.

"No wonder why your mother is so desperate for me to be with you. She can hardly stand you."

Not thinking on what she was saying, she realized her mistake far too late when she began to include his mother in the conversation and insulted him on being a worthless son that his own mother couldn't stand. And Irie was not happy on that fact.

Before she could blink, he shut her up with a slap to the face. Shocked to the bone, her head twisted to a side, and the stinging of flesh meeting flesh numbed her cheek.

"You should keep that mouth shut."

He moved away from her and pushed past the small crowd that developed around them. She turned her head toward his direction and faintly smirked. It seemed Irie had a weak spot in the end.

xx

The ride home was intense. In the minivan she shared with Irie and two others, Sudou turned the vehicle down their road and slowed when they came near a stop sign. She glanced to her left. Next to Shun, and by the opposite window, Matsumoto sat. Her nose was bruised from the heavy hit. Luckily, it was not broken.

Matsumoto turned away from the window and met her eye. Kotoko looked away and propped her palm under chin, watching the houses from their street pass by their moving vehicle. Slowly, the car came to a stop in front of their house.

Irie thanked them for the ride. Kotoko kept silent and moved out from the vehicle and grabbed her backpack. Shutting the door behind her, she headed toward the house as Irie's door slammed in the background. She opened the door quickly and entered inside.

Taking off her shoes, she held the sandals in one hand and headed up the stairs. The front door was shut behind her as Irie kicked off his sandals and quickly walked up the stairs to catch up to her.

His mother appeared from the brother's shared bedroom. She noticed Kotoko walking quickly in the hall and gave her a smile.

"How was your day, Kotoko?"

"It was okay."

Mrs. Irie looked at her in concern when Kotoko spoke bitterly. She watched Kotoko enter in her room before Irie entered inside seconds before her. Curious, she crept near the door and listened.

"What do you want, Irie?"

"Never talk about my mother like that again."

She refrained from speaking.

"You don't know anything so don't presume that you know her well than me."

Unlocking the door, he pushed past his mother, who began to question them about their behavior. Kotoko heard her pestering her son, "Irie, please, tell me what is wrong," over and over again.

It felt rather suffocating in the room. How this day turned out to be a mess. All she wanted was to beat him and for him to see how great of challenge she can be. Instead, it came out as a disaster when she got up in the game and smack Ms. Perfect in the face.

The tears rolled down her cheek and cradled her chin. She removed them from her face with the back of her hand.

Why, oh why, did she continue pursuing him? Sometimes she merely wished that she had never had fallen in love with him that day in the auditorium. Sometimes she merely wished for a chance to feel his love in return, instead of running around in circles waiting for him to tell her how much appreciated and wanted she was.

She sobbed and looked toward the ceiling. She was a mess. And she would not attempt to lie that hitting the ball on Matsumoto's face brought her satisfaction. No matter how much she enjoyed that moment, in the end it was a pure accident, one that she did not deliberately do on purpose.

An apology was in order. Matsumoto deserved one. Mrs. Irie deserved one too for responding so rudely.

She took in a deep breath and let her eyes wander. Noticing her white tennis shoes, she stood up from her spot and grabbed them. A white t-shirt and black shorts joined the shoes in her hands. She changed into her gym wear and grabbed her shoes in one hand as she made her way toward the stairs.

A faint chatter was heard in the living room. Irie's family was up. Her father's voice was heard behind the door, confirming that he was among the group. She dropped to the floor and put on her shoes.

The door behind her swung open. Light flooded through the main entrance. Her shadow was seen in the bright light. Then the main entrance light was turned on and the dark became no more. Kotoko heard footsteps approach from behind. She took a glance and found Irie with a hand laid on top of the stair rail.

As for the person who turned on the light, it was none other than Mrs. Irie, surprised to see Kotoko putting on her tennis shoes.

"Kotoko?" Her face screamed for an explanation to where she was going.

She responded to ease her nerves, "I'm heading for a run."

She dashed out the door and ignored Mrs. Irie's protest of it being late. It didn't matter how late it was. Kotoko needed the escape. But no matter how much she ran, she could never run away from the one thing she hated the most: her feelings toward Naoki Irie.

Taking a step on her left foot, she gasped when a pain shot through her side. She managed to pull a muscle and forced herself to a stop. It pained her to run, let alone take a deep breath. Looking behind her, she ran all the way to the next block.

How pathetic of her to run without stretching. No matter. The pain was bearable than the pain in her heart. With her hand placed on her side, and her head hung low, she forced herself to continue walking.

She never looked back at the Irie home. She never looked back…


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

The main entrance door stood in front of her. All she needed to do was to reach out and ease their frantic shouts, mostly from Mrs. Irie that was coming from behind the door, and resolved their fright with relief. However, she couldn't manage to open the door. Her feet were stuck to the ground, and she had no intention of moving them.

Perhaps, she should continue with her nightly stroll. Then, again, her side hurt every time she took in a breath. For future reference, she should practice her breathing when running; otherwise, she would tire out more often. Naoki would've laughed at her failed attempt of a sprint.

She shook her head at the mention of his name. He was not important as of now. She simply wanted to get to her bed and rest. It must be late at night, perhaps a few minutes before midnight.

Her hand stretched out in front of her and aimed toward the knob. She curled her fingers from coming in contact with the cool steel when the knob began to pull away from her flesh. The door was pulled open by Irie, dressed in a pair of shorts and white t-shirt. A pair of running shoes greeted her eyes when she glanced below.

He was going to look for her. That was plain obvious. He may deny it if she brought the fact forth, but fortunately she wasn't willing to tease him tonight.

She met his eyes, inconspicuously taking in the emotions he portrayed. Confused, relieved, and surprised—his eyes could barely restrain what he was feeling at the moment. A peculiar sight to catch him bombarded with those emotions. She never presumed Naoki to feel anything.

And he seemed to realize his mistake when he instantly covered his features impassively. He did not offer a word, not that she was expecting him to say anything at first. His eyes were glued to her expression as if he was trying to read her thoughts.

She let her lips stretch to a side, amused to catch him in the act of seeking her out. He simply regarded her coolly as he was prepared to question her tardiness. Oddly enough, she was ready to answer his questions. He did not speak as the minutes past, prompting her to ensue first.

"Where are you headed?"

He looked past her, his hands saved in his pockets. "Out."

"To search for me?"

In the end, her desperation to take refuge in her bed could wait a bit longer. There would never be a chance to tease him again. For once, she wanted to bring forth as many emotions as possible. And she succeeded when his eyes frantically looked around, unprepared for her question. He immediately composed himself, blinking his eyes twice and looking past her.

"My mother wanted me to check on you. It's almost midnight."

"Oh, sorry. I forgot about the time. I didn't have my phone on me or my watch."

Naoki continued to gaze at her. She looked at him in return and gave him a sincere smile.

"Let's get inside."

She patted his shoulder twice and pushed past him. Her father would be upset of her action of leaving into the night; however, it was for her own good to escape for a little while. She needed to get away from the home that did not belong to her. And she had already expected, when she entered the living room area, that they would shout her name in glee. Mrs. Irie was the first to wrap her arms around her neck, rubbing her cheek against her own.

And for the first time, Kotoko felt strange of being embraced by her. She patted her back out of comfort, while mindlessly capturing a few words that left her lips in rush. Mrs. Irie pulled away and looked into her eyes.

"Kotoko, are you well?"

She stared back into Mrs. Irie's teary eyes. She watched a tear roll down her cheek, falling to her chin, before it crashed to the ground. The audience behind Noriko was patiently waiting for her to answer, although Yuuki seemed to be looking elsewhere. Kotoko took a glance toward the stairs. Naoki was present as well, captured by the silence.

"I'm sorry. I told you I was going for a run, though."

Noriko played with Kotoko's hair in comfort.

"But I grew worried, Kotoko. You shouldn't run late at night." She smiled softly. "Are you feeling better?"

Mrs. Irie placed her hands against her shoulder blades. She was searching for the truth, and Kotoko couldn't deny her request. The redhead raised her hand and placed it on top of Mrs. Irie's.

"I just have a lot on my mind."

Mrs. Irie was a little surprised at her response.

"I'm quite tired, Mrs. Irie," Kotoko continued, not wanting comfort at the moment, "I need to head to bed." She unleashed herself from her hold.

Kotoko turned her feet toward the kitchen and grabbed a cup from the cabinet. She then poured herself a glass of water and brought it to her lips, relieving her dry throat. Someone entered the kitchen and stopped behind her.

"I'm just tired." She dumped the rest of the water into the sink and rested the cup to a side. "Tomorrow everything will be back to normal."

When she turned to face her guest, she wasn't surprised to find Naoki standing behind her.

"I'm really just tired."

A smile was forced. She took the moment to slip past his rigid form. He disallowed her from taking another step when his hand shot out and grabbed her from her wrist. She turned astonished that he held her back. She looked up and saw his eyes looking down at his hand touching her wrist.

He knew what he had done. He pulled away quickly.

She chuckled at his haste. It seemed as if she was disease that he did not want to touch. And it wouldn't surprise her if he began to wash his hands immediately for coming in contact with her wrist. Surprisingly, he did no such thing.

"What is it, Irie?"

He hesitated to answer.

With eyes looking to a side, he muttered, slowly, "I'm hanging out with Matsumoto tomorrow. Want to come?"

This was a first to her. He was inviting her to spend a day with him and Yuuko.

"I know you would like to apologize to her," he continued.

She thought too soon. He merely wanted her to apologize.

"Alright," she agreed. Once again, she was prepared to leave.

He stopped her once more.

"Kotoko…"

She turned her head as a sign that she was listening.

"Love is too complicated."

"You wouldn't know," she responded.

"That's right. I wouldn't know."

He astonished her with the truth. She thought he would play around and tease her about her one-sided love. Instead, he admittedly revealed that he knew nothing of love.

"I've never been in a relationship before. I never found someone to experience what love could be. I can be naïve when it comes to relationships."

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked.

He simply shrugged. "I thought you might want to know." Then he asked, "Why do you love me?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I find it strange that you love me."

She felt her heart increase in its rhythm.

"I'm really tired, Irie."

"Answer my question," he pressed.

She looked at him and sighed. "I don't have to answer anything. I'm tired." He looked ready to ask her once more. "Please," she pleaded, not wanting to talk about it. "Ask me another time. Right now I simply want to go to bed."

He looked away, peeved at her reasoning. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Good night."

The thought of her bed greeting her with her soft sheets sounded like heaven at the moment.

xx

Matsumoto Yuuko appeared to be looking lost at the Central Park. Irie was nowhere to be seen. Kotoko thought he had left early from home to catch up with the black-hair beauty, but she was surprised to find Yuuko alone, waiting patiently for them to arrive. Presumably more Irie, however.

Kotoko knew for certain that Matsumoto did not get dolled up for nothing.

"Hello, Matsumoto," she greeted her when she was near.

Matsumoto appeared to have finally noticed her. Her expression began to change into amusement as an arrogant smirk took her lips. How Kotoko hated that smirk. It was as if she was constantly mocking her. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

She came here for a purpose. And she was going to complete that purpose and leave.

"Hello, Aihara," Yuuko greeted in return.

Underneath the layers of makeup Yuuko had on, Kotoko finally noticed the bruise that the volleyball left on her nose. Guilt began to build up. She didn't mean to hurt her as hard as she did.

"Matsumoto." She raised a brow at the mention of her name. "I'm sorry." And, slowly, her expression changed. "I didn't mean to hit you."

Matsumoto became silent. She then turned her head away and turned it back when she began to inspect the sincerity in Kotoko's words. She smiled out of the blue, and then went back to her teasing, or what Kotoko presumed to be teasing.

"Are you aiming to claim Irie's heart?"

Kotoko played along. "I don't know if I should tell you this but you already lost."

She chuckled. "I don't think so."

"You know, Matsumoto, he's going to pick you in the end," Kotoko said.

Matsumoto grew shock at the sudden declaration. She wasn't expecting that at all. Presuming that Kotoko was playing, she continued, "Why? Did you lose interest in him?"

Kotoko admittedly said, "I'm trying to."

The teasing stopped. In its place, confusion roared to life on her pretty face. She leaned forward a little, examining her with her dark eyes. There was something there that Matsumoto was looking for—what it was Kotoko wasn't certain.

Not liking the way she looked at her, Kotoko quickly said to distract her, "I'm just playing. As if I would lose Irie to you, Matsumoto Yuuko."

Distracted, Matsumoto smiled, although it didn't reach her eyes. She moved toward the bench, next to a tree shading the area. The sun pierced through the branches and slipped past the leaves, touching parts of the bench with spots of sunlight. Matsumoto sat down with a sigh and relaxed to the autumn wind.

Kotoko took a seat next to her. There was no objection on Matsumoto's part. She silently accepted her companion with her eyes resting on her.

"Do you love Irie?"

Taken back from the question, Kotoko didn't know how to respond. In her heart, she knew she loved Irie, try as she might to forget about him. But telling that to Matsumoto didn't seem to be like a good idea.

She settled with, "He's a good man," and looked away from her.

"That doesn't answer my question."

Matsumoto was quick to notice her mistake.

"Well…" She thought on a good reason. "I would do anything for him."

"You don't sound so sure."

That's because Kotoko wasn't. Still Matsumoto didn't need to know that.

"I mean what I say."

"If you give up, Kotoko, Irie would belong to me."

She smiled at the thought, and roughly commented, "He has always been yours. I'm just the idiot that has stood in the way."

Surprise crossed Matsumoto's face for a moment. It shattered with a smile. Her eyes were fixed on hers, with an open expression that showed her concern.

Calmly, she stated, "Irie and I are compatible in everything. It would make sense for us to be together. However…" Kotoko held back her nervousness, anticipating the rest of her sentence. "I don't have his heart."

For several seconds Kotoko was too stunned to do anything. She heard a silent confession—one that tore her heart at the sound of Matsumoto's heart shattering in front of her. Matsumoto looked away and turned her head, searching for a distraction. And she found it when she waved at Irie, who approached with white tulips wrapped in a sheet.

It was strange to find Irie with flowers in his hand. He never seemed like the romantic type—well, he wasn't. But finding him out of his element made Kotoko wonder what motivated him to do something different.

For the rest of the afternoon it was very difficult to exchange in a conversation. She kept looking at the flowers, wanting to know what made him buy them. Perhaps, it was meant for Matsumoto, and Irie wanted to give it to her without Kotoko witnessing. If that was the case, she excused herself from them.

She had hoped to be alone anyway. It gave her time to think about what her next move should be. And it came when she noticed an ad placed on a restaurant window. She approached it and looked inside the restaurant.

Neat and casual looking, it shined with bold statements of gold and red. The dining table appeared updated with modern-looking red chairs. The floors were glossed and colored in black. And when she looked up, she found the restaurant to be illuminated with colorblock hanging lights.

She looked back at the sign, confirming on what she read. It said, "Now Hiring."

Enthusiastic, Kotoko entered the pristine doors and approached the greeter. With nothing better to do with her spare time, a job seemed to be the right medicine to keep her busy from chasing Irie. She had to remember—Irie needed to be out of the picture to start a new life.

Still, even as she felt determined to do what her mind was saying for her to do, just this once, she thought about him and pondered if he would be pleased with her decision of getting a job.

xx

The sweet smell of tulips pecked at Irie's nose. He rested them on his desk and sat on his chair, twirling his seat when he grew bored. Yuuki came in a few seconds afterward and tossed himself on his bed. He pulled a book from the shelf above him and rested his back against a stack of pillows.

Silence. Unperturbed silence. It tangled around his body and calmed his nerves.

Irie felt at peace. He closed his eyes and listened, once in a while, to the pages of Yuuki's book turning to the next page.

Then he opened his eyes when Yuuki addressed him a question. He turned his head to a side a little and asked him to repeat himself.

"Who are the flowers for?"

Lying forgotten on his desk, Irie looked at the flowers in shock. He had forgotten about them. For the first time he did not feel comfortable with Yuuki in the room.

"I…" Yuuki looked at him in puzzlement, the book laid at his lap. "…I bought them for Mother."

Yuuki lifted a brow in response. "Strange. You never buy mother flowers, except on Mother's Day."

"I just felt like buying them for her."

Yuuki turned the page of his book. "Kotoko would like them."

Irie pressed his fingers against his eyelids, stressed over the fact that Yuuki continued to bug him about his interest toward Kotoko. He had to reassure him that she meant nothing to him, but it would make no difference on what he says. Yuuki would believe what he wanted to believe.

"I didn't buy them for her."

"I'm not saying that you did. I'm just saying Kotoko would like them."

The boy was playing a dangerous game. He cunningly knew that he was sending him a double meaning about what his statement meant. Not wanting to snap at his little brother, he collected himself together and whirled in his seat toward the window that revealed the street where he lived on.

He glanced toward the flowers. In the morning, he made a quick dash toward the flower shop. Dreams were pestering him at night, trying to show him a meaning of some sort. In each one, Kotoko was there, telling him grave news. It was either she was pregnant with someone else's child or she was leaving him for someone else.

It disturbed him.

And it disturbed him more that in each one he fought for her. It didn't matter to him if she had someone else's baby, even if his blood boiled at the thought, he would take care of her and that unborn child. And if she left him for someone else, he would fight for her attention and win her over as always.

But what could it mean? What did those dreams mean to him?

It could be perfectly possible that he developed feelings for her after high school. Maybe he did. That's why he bought those flowers for her. But giving them to her presented a bad signal. He did not want to give her hope that he was feeling something for her, or maybe he did, so she wouldn't move on.

He did not want to think about it anymore.

Twirling away from the desk and toward his bed, he moved on top of his bed, resting on his stomach. With a pillow, he laid it underneath his chin and turned his head to rest his cheek.

"What are you thinking about Brother?"

His heart leapt at the sound of his little brother's voice. He had forgotten about him.

"Nothing."

"They say when you look at nothing in particular, you're thinking about a heavy thought."

"I'm not thinking about anything. I'm just tired."

"Is this about Kotoko?"

Irie turned on his back and faced the ceiling. He could not believe that his brother would pester him about Kotoko at the crucial moment when Irie was beginning to realize that he might have feelings for her. He crushed the thought immediately when it surfaced and sat up.

"I don't like her. I thought I told you that."

"Sometimes I wonder, Brother." Yuuki set the book back in its spot, along with rest stacked neatly together, and returned his attention toward Irie with his back against the headboard.

Irie pushed him to continue. "Wonder about what?"

"Whether you're just telling me that you don't like her because you're denying your true feelings about her," Yuuki said.

"I don't like her."

"Brother, I won't be disappointed. I've come with terms with it."

Irie did not care if Yuuki accepted it or not. He wanted for his little brother to understand that he did not having feelings for Kotoko Aihara. But even as he said it out loud, and chanted it in his head, he could not deny that he could've possibly have grown attached to her in some way.

Hearing a knock on his door, he looked up and watched as his mother entered the room, glancing at them both.

"I made some snacks downstairs. Come and get some."

Behind her, Kotoko appeared, and smiled at the two brothers. "Hurry up! Let's grab some cookies!"

She pulled away from his mother and dashed toward the stairs. Yuuki followed after, exclaiming behind her, "Hey! Don't eat them all!"

Mrs. Irie turned to her eldest son. "Come, Naoki."

Grabbing the flowers from his desk, he walked toward his mother and handed it to her.

"For you," he said and pecked her on the cheek.

She smiled and took the gift and watched her eldest son head toward the stairs to join with the others.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes: **For future reference, I am using the American currency. I don't know much about the Japanese currency, which I believe is the yen. I would rather stick with what I know.

* * *

**Chapter Six**

There was an ad in the newspaper about a university student looking for a roommate. Male or female, it didn't matter. The description was solely focused on the characteristics that the future roommate needed to have. Cleanliness, keep to themselves, helps pay with half the rent, and, above all, keeps the noise level down was required. She thought she could be the proper person to conduct a civil relationship with a stranger and follow those requirements.

Though, she hoped that her future roommate, if she was acceptable, could be female. If it was a male, she would have to keep her father from knowing. Heck, she would have to keep silent of the affair. And if caught, she would announce that he was a mere roommate, and nothing more. Hopefully, her father would believe her.

She pondered on the possibility that her and her father should move out together, but she wanted her independence. She _needed_ it. It was the only way she could build up her confidence, and perhaps, gain a huge level of comfort on being on her own.

And, most of all, she needed the space to get away from Naoki. It was the only method that she could think of getting her life back on track. The mere possibility that she would resume after him in the future scared her, but the chances were now slim.

She wanted, and needed, her own sense of mind back to regain her level confidence to see other people. At least, when she goes into the dating world, she would know what she wanted in a man. It would be the very opposite of what Naoki was in exception to his intelligence. One day, she would find her prince charming. As of the moment, she needed to clean up her appearance and regain her happiness.

The job that she recently applied to was fortunately given to her. Here she thought she did badly in the interview. To her surprise, she did exceptionally well, and to her credit, she felt proud of herself. The world around her did not seem so bleak with Naoki out of the picture. She has worked for several weeks, maybe a month. To her surprise, she saw less of Naoki at home.

Kotoko came to a sudden halt.

The ad in the newspaper, about the student looking for a roommate, provided a number to contact. Unfortunately, the student didn't answer, leaving her to leave a voice message. Luckily, however, she received a text to meet at midday at the place provided. That site directed her to an apartment building.

She took in the quiet atmosphere and neatly cleaned area. School wouldn't be a problem for her. It was pleasantly near, perhaps, a twenty-minute walk. That was a plus in her book.

The apartment she was looking for was 514. She looked above on top of the building. The number, 500, was colored in black, contrasting against the brown exterior. She was in the right direction.

She found the apartment on the second floor. The negative side on living on the top floor was the furniture. It would be a hassle to bring her furniture up. However, the positive aspect on living on the second floor is she wouldn't be the one hearing the heavy footsteps above.

She took in a breath and pressed the doorbell. In her mind, she wished for a female companion to have for a roommate. The thought of having a male roommate wasn't bothersome either as she let the thought sink in. Perhaps, if she was lucky, she would have a handsome, male roommate to stare and fantasize of being his future girlfriend.

She smiled. It seemed her craziness to obsess over men will never fully go away.

The door finally opened when she regained her composure. Standing in front of her was a male student, wearing spectacles, and having untidy hair. His blue, button-up shirt clung to his tone frame, contrasting against his straight, black jeans. The man was cute in her eyes.

"Hello, you are Aihara Kotoko, correct?"

She bowed her head. "Yes, and you are?"

"Leo Himizaki."

She bowed again. "A pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise. Come inside." He opened the door for her to take a step inside. She left her shoes by the door next to his and entered the living room area. To the right of her, a fairly reasonable size of a kitchen could be seen. And straight ahead into the small hallway, a door could be seen across.

"So, initially I had to conduct an interview of some sort, but it seemed he doesn't want that anymore," Leo said.

Kotoko appeared puzzled. "Who exactly are you referring to?"

"Your roommate," he clarified. He conveyed a guilty expression. "I'm sorry. I'm just here to show you around since he's busy at the moment."

"And what is my roommate's name?" she inquired.

"Oh, he will take care of that when he meets you. Said it would be rude to let someone else introduce himself," Leo stated. "Anyway, like I said, he wanted me to conduct an interview to see if you met his standards, but it seems he is fine with having you as a roommate."

He motioned a hand toward the living room. "There is already a dish network set. If you don't mind, he wanted to know if you are willing to help pay with half the payments—as in rent, cable, electricity, and the water bill."

"I don't mind. I plan to help him out," she replied sternly.

He smiled at that. "Yeah, but I think he doesn't want you to worry too much about it. But, either way, it's good to hear that you'll help."

He motioned his hands in a circular rotation toward the living room area. "Please keep this area clean." She nodded her head. "Trust me when I say he is a clean freak."

She chuckled. "I have experience with that."

"That's good to hear." He proceeded toward the kitchen area. "Same thing, keep the area clean. As for the groceries, I suppose you guys will divide that among yourselves."

He moved past her toward the first bedroom door. He placed his hand on top of it.

"This is his room. Don't enter." He pointed toward the cabinets align next to the door. "You can put whatever in here. It doesn't matter." He opened one and showed her that it was empty.

He went to the door next to it. "This is the bathroom. It has a shower." He turned on the light. Kotoko peeked inside. It was a decent size. A bit of remodeling needed to be done, however. The wallpaper was yellow with different types of flowers. The cabinets appeared a bit worn out. Overall, it was decent enough for her.

"The door across from the bathroom is the closet." She looked behind her and opened the door. There was a sweater and an umbrella saved inside. He walked toward the door to the right of her. "And here is your room."

She entered inside with him, inspecting her future bedroom. The room was big enough to fit her full-size bed. The closet had enough space for her clothes and shoes. There was also a second door that she did not notice that led to the bathroom she viewed before. To her surprise, she felt pleased of the room given to her.

"Will we be sharing the same bathroom?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, he has his own bathroom."

"So, that bathroom is mine."

He nodded his head. "Yeah, it's yours to use."

He led her back to the living room and sat down on the leather couch. She took the recliner alongside of it. Kotoko wondered how her future roommate was able to pay the expenses, including buying furniture that seemed expensive. The thought of his parents helping him out was possibly how he received his daily income.

"The rental payment is about 800 a month. The other payments, electricity, cable, and water, are paid separately."

"Do you know the amount he is paying for the other costs?"

"No," he answered. "He only provided me the estimate amount of the rental. I believe the other costs he will talk it over with you."

She gave a small sigh. "It would have been nice if he was here."

Leo brought his hands together. "Yeah, I apologize for that."

He hesitated for a moment, considering a thought in his head before he opened his mouth and continued to describe her roommate, "He's working two jobs and going to school. His life is hectic at the moment. I heard his mother was quite upset when he moved out. He had to change his original phone number since she was threatening to give false information to the landlord if he didn't move back home."

Kotoko gasped in surprised. "Wow. His mother seems quite controlling."

"Yeah, she is," he replied. He slowly began to chuckle. "Heck, she's even forcing him to date someone he doesn't like." He chuckled a bit more, the back of his hand covering his mouth. Kotoko went numb when the familiar life of someone she knew came to mind.

His chuckles came to an end. "Even though he objects to his mother's proposal of being with the girl she has chosen for him, I can tell he cares for her deeply." He leaned back into his seat. "Anyway, I should not talk about this with you. It's a private matter. Sorry about that."

She gave a faint smile. "It's okay." Her eyebrows came to together as a folded wrinkle. "Tell me…" He raised his head. "…Is he by any chance studying to be a doctor?"

He seemed surprised for a moment before he recovered himself. "Yes, how did you know that?"

She gave a grin. "Lucky guess."

xx

Considering the optional invitation to share an apartment with the man she would rather avoid, she still told Leo that she would gladly be the man's roommate. The main reason she wanted to be his roommate was because he didn't refuse her when he should have. It clearly meant that he would rather pick her, someone he knew, than someone he would have to be forced to know and depended on.

This meant she would have to change her way of forgetting about him. In all honesty, she wouldn't mind living with him. After all, she would be titled as the mere roommate. Nothing more, nothing less. There would be no strings attach, not that there were any in the first place.

The minute she opened the door to the Irie household, she knew that she had entered into a home filled with chaos. Mrs. Irie could be heard crying in the living room. Mr. Irie had sat on the last step of the stairs, being comforted by her father. Yuuki was nowhere to be seen, but she saw his head peek from above the stairs, looking at her with those eyes of insecurity.

She wondered what caused everyone to be in sorrow.

"Papa," she greeted. The door closed behind her in a soft click. She took off her shoes and went to her father's side as he motioned her to creep near.

He whispered in her ear, "Go comfort Mrs. Irie."

She nodded her head and left to the living room area. Once she opened the door, she managed to dodge a plate aimed toward her. Mrs. Irie took noticed of her and stopped from destroying her kitchen ware. Instantly, she screamed her name and grabbed her in a bear hug, smothering her with her heavy tears.

Kotoko managed to pull herself away and look into her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

She didn't answer her question. She simply led her toward the couch, taking a napkin in her hand and wiping the tears off her face. Kotoko waited patiently for her to compose herself. Slowly, Mrs. Irie smiled and grabbed a handful of napkins.

"I raised a shallow son." She wiped more tears off her face. "I provided him everything that he wants. Only for what? For him to leave out that door?" She pouted. "It isn't fair."

"Irie left?" she asked. "When?"

"He left two weeks ago. You were too busy working and going to school to have notice."

"I see…" she answered. She positioned herself with her back resting against her seat and her hands folded on her lap.

Mrs. Irie reached for her hand and patted it softly. "I'm sorry. I was doing my best to bring him back home, but he managed to change his number."

Kotoko briefly smiled. "It's okay. I will see him soon."

His mother clapped her hands together. "That's right. You mustn't give up. Even if he moved out, you can still win his heart."

She shook her head. "That's not what I meant, Mrs. Irie."

The older woman paused in her declaration of assuring that her son would marry Kotoko as she blinked her eyes several times before she rested her attention on her. With her hand lowered, and resting on the cushion seat, she leaned forward, taking in her solemn expression.

"What do you mean?"

"Mrs. Irie…" Kotoko looked at her. "You can't force someone to be with a person they don't want to be with."

His mother slapped her hand on the cushion. "Naoki doesn't know what he wants. I, however, know that you will be perfect for my son."

Kotoko shook her head. "You may think that I am compatible for your son; however, he doesn't think like that." Her voice began to crack slightly. "He has every right to refuse my advances, and I would do the same if I was in his place." She looked deeply into her eyes. "Mrs. Irie, what I am trying to say is I don't want to pursue this one-sided love anymore. I have to move on."

"Kotoko, Naoki does love you." She flared her hands in the air in exaggeration. "He's stubborn to admit it."

"I'm sorry if this offends you, but I can't wait for someone like that." Kotoko looked away, staring at the table in front of her. "I'm wasting my life for someone who doesn't care for me. I have to think of myself now. I can't live that life anymore. I'm just done. I'm tired of being hurt."

"Kotoko…" Mrs. Irie laid both her hands on top of hers. "…You can't give up."

She gripped her hands tightly in return. "I'm sorry, but Irie and I are different. We don't think the same way. He has his plans. I have my own." She let go of her hands. "You can't force him to be with me. He has his own ideal girl in mind, and I need to respect that."

She stood up from her seat and bowed her head toward Mrs. Irie.

"Forgive me."

Mrs. Irie shook her head. "You don't have to apologize."

Kotoko straightened her back and gave a smile. "I do after I break the news to you."

She looked a bit pensive, bordering between fear and curiosity. "News? What news?"

"I'm moving out."

A brand new fresh of tears leaked from her eyes and crashed to the ground as the sorrow resumed.

xx

It was silent among her father and her as she searched in the box for her sheets.

She never presumed that her departure from the Irie household would bring Mrs. Irie to despair. Kotoko didn't want her to feel sadden. She explained to her that she needed her own independence for a while. And, after a few minutes, Noriko began to dislike her son for rejecting the most suitable girl in her eyes that she found to be quite lovely.

Kotoko merely smiled at the memory of how Mrs. Irie agreed that she was better suited for someone else—even though, she still believed that Irie was meant for her. In the end, Kotoko left with mostly all her things. Her father had asked a friend for a favor if he could help with the furniture. Luckily, his friend agreed to help and brought his truck.

"Why are you in a rush to move out?" her father asked.

"I need to get away. That home holds too many memories for me," she replied. She pulled out her brand new set of blankets and started fixing her bed neatly. It seemed the full-size bed did fit after all; though, the room looked quite small now that she placed it in.

"And how do I know I could trust this person?"

"Papa…" She looked at him. "…I trust this person."

She smoothed out the wrinkles from her sheets before she grabbed the comforter and laid it on top of her mattress. Her father grabbed from one end and helped her straightened it out.

"Why couldn't you wait?" he asked. "Why did you have to leave on the day you barely told everyone that you are moving out?"

"I made a commitment," she replied. She pulled her school books from the box and set it on the bed. "I'm going to help my roommate with the payments."

"Is your roommate a male?"

Kotoko smiled. "Yes, and you know him."

He grimaced. "It's not Kinnosuke, is it?"

She laughed. "No…" Her smile faltered. "It's Irie."

He appeared shocked at the news, but in his eyes she could tell that he was relief to discover that it was Irie.

"Don't worry, Papa. I don't plan to pursue him anymore."

"Kotoko…" He reached for his daughter's hand but she moved her feet away from him and pulled out the hangers from the box.

"I will help him for a couple of months then I will look for somewhere else to live."

"We could always move out together," he suggested.

She gave a small sigh in return. "I know, but I need to be alone for a while. I need to discover who I am." She pulled out her clothes. "Even though being with Irie is the worst decision I can make, I still want to have my independence."

"I'm glad that he will, at least, look after you."

She scowled. "I can take care of myself. I don't need him."

"Kotoko…" he called her name again softly. He pulled her away from the closet and gave her a hug. Her arms stayed by her side, until, slowly, she pulled them up and embraced him in return.

"I'm just tired, Papa." Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I just want to feel loved."

Her father pulled away from her and looked into her eyes. "I love you."

She chuckled and brushed the tears off her cheeks. "I know you do, and I love you too."

"Listen to me, Kotoko…" His hands rested comfortably on her shoulders. "…Irie may not be the one for you, but there are countless others waiting for the opportunity to meet you." He lifted her chin with a finger. "It may not have worked between you and him, but that doesn't mean you should give up on love."

"And I'm not," she agreed. "I just thought that Irie was the one for me. I'm a hopeless romantic," she cried while wiping the tears off her face.

He gave her a hug once more. "Don't worry. One day, you'll find your prince charming."

"I hope so."

"You will," he emphasized. He laid a kiss on her forehead. "Do you need any more help?" He looked around the room and noticed that everything was set and saved in their place. The only thing left was to save her clothes in the closet and throw away the cardboard boxes—unless his daughter wanted to save it.

She shook her head. "I can take care of things from here."

"You sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Alright…" He headed toward the entrance door. She followed behind him. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me."

"I won't."

"And please, focus on your studies."

"I will," she promised.

"Take care, sweetheart." He gave her a kiss on the forehead once more before he left the apartment, rejoining with Mr. Irie, who was patiently waiting in the truck with his friend. Kotoko sighed and locked the door. She went back into her room and continued to save her things.

It was near eleven o'clock at night when she heard the front door open and close. Her clothes were all saved in their proper place. She was merely sitting in bed when someone entered the apartment. She pulled the sheets to a side, setting her feet to the ground as she walked slowly toward her bedroom door. The microwave could be heard being used.

She opened the door silently and pulled it open. The kitchen light was on. She peeked from behind the corner and was not astonished to find Irie with his back given to her while he took off his tie and placed the apartment keys on the kitchen countertop. She leaned against the wall, waiting for him to acknowledge her, but he was rather absorbed on taking his food out of the microwave and eating it.

She took a couple of steps forward, her arms tucked under her breasts.

"Hello, Irie," she greeted.

He jumped at the sound of his name, but instantly composed himself when his eyes had fallen on her. Taking the chopsticks in hand, he resumed eating. She drew near and opened the refrigerator behind him. Taking out the orange juice, she rested it on the countertop before she grabbed a cup from the cabinets.

"You went grocery shopping?" he asked.

"Yeah, we needed a few things," she replied. She poured herself a cup. "Do you want some?"

"Yes, please." She grabbed him a cup and poured him some juice. He mumbled a small, "Thanks", before he placed his plate and cup on the dining table. She joined him.

"I didn't think you would move right away."

"The sooner I moved out the better."

He gave a faint smile. "Tell me…" She looked at him. "…Why did you move out?"

The idea to tell him that he was the cause of her liberation to move out in the first place held her tongue in a fierce restrain. She merely finished her drink, washed it, and saved the orange juice back in the fridge.

"Don't worry about it," was her response.

"I'm not. I'm just curious."

She stopped from going to her room and turned her attention back to him.

"Why did you move out?"

"I needed my independence from my mother," he responded. She amusedly smiled. She wasn't expecting him to respond.

"I needed my independence as well."

"From your father?" he inquired.

"No…" She turned around and headed toward her bedroom. "…from you."

The door slammed before he could respond. However, she knew that tomorrow morning he was going to ask the inevitable question of why she agreed to move with him in the first place. And the answer was simple to her.

She didn't love him as much as she did a month ago. And her heart was proof to that statement. For the first time, and to her delight, her heart didn't beat in a rapid pace when she was alone with him.

She was beginning to lose interest in him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Six o'clock.

Six o'clock in the morning with the constant disruptions of being awake at night provided Irie a morning he hated. The ache of his tired body wanting to continue to slumber was roughly awakened by the sounds of the television being turned on. He mumbled a curse and pulled the sheets off his slender form.

A fresh shower was highly needed. He took off his remaining clothes, his sweatpants and boxers, before he turned on the showerhead and enjoyed the cool droplets against the warmth of his skin. He wondered what Kotoko was doing in the kitchen. He never presumed that she would wake up early in the morning when she was known to be the last one to arise from bed.

Curious to discover the reason to why she was awake, he hastily finished his shower, rubbing the towel against his wet form and short locks before he put on a pair of fresh boxers. A white t-shirt and sweatpants were put on next.

Casually dressed, he opened his bedroom door and entered the sweet aroma of delights in the air. He pondered immensely at her decision of baking in the morning. Could she have blindly disregarded the time and failed to realize that the day was young? He shook his head at her lack of attentiveness.

"What are you doing?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice. Turning, with a butter knife coated with chocolate frosting held in one hand, she looked at him in shock. Nervously, she placed the knife down and rested her hands on the kitchen counter.

"I'm baking."

The sound of a woman's voice slipped in between them. He turned his head toward the television. A program, with a substantial amount of information on how to bake, was playing. He concentrated on the petite woman, her black hair tied nicely in a bun, as she began to rotate things around, taking out an empty pan and pouring the cake mix in.

He amusedly smiled and looked at Kotoko.

"You're learning?"

Her eyes flicked to the right. She messed with a strand of her hair.

"Yes." Instantly, her nervousness evaporated and her cheery disposition took place. "Don't worry. You don't have to eat it. I'm simply experimenting."

She turned around and put the cake mix in her empty pan. Opening the oven, he noticed that there was already a cake inside. She pulled it out and set it to rest before she put in the other one. Closing the oven, she smiled and slapped her hands together in joy. He found her habits of cheering to be quite strange.

"What time did you wake up?"

She looked at him with her eyebrows raised. "I think at five."

He suppressed his surprise from surfacing. "Why so early?"

"I couldn't go back to sleep." For a moment, he silently agreed with her for once, and faintly smiled toward her direction when she began to put frosting on the second cake.

He walked toward the living room and bended over to the grab the remote. Turning the television off, he headed into the kitchen, grabbed a bowl and poured himself cereal. The milk was taken out followed by a spoon. He took a seat on the bar stool facing toward Kotoko, as she busied herself with packing the cakes on top of each other.

"What are you doing today?"

He pondered on her question. Firmly, he answered, "Nothing."

She seemed surprised, confessing moments later, "I thought you had plans."

"Who would I have plans with?"

She grabbed the frosting. "With Matsumoto, of course."

He smirked. "Jealous?"

Her face lifted into a grin. "I'm not jealous." She spread the chocolate frosting over the mistakes she made. Some of the bread had peeled off, making the cake unappealing to eat. "I don't really care."

There was a question he wanted answers to, and it was a question that bugged him throughout the night now that he remembered. Sternly, he asked, "Why did you move with me if you wanted your independence from me?"

She seemed to contemplate the question. "I needed an apartment. I didn't know you were the one needing a roommate." She placed the butter knife down. "Though, it does bring up a question." Her eyes met with his, intensely searching for a clue of some sort. He hardly knew what she would find in his emotionless expression.

After a pause of silence, she asked, "Why didn't you tell me beforehand?"

She changed the topic to his dismay. "You didn't answer my question."

"You didn't answer mine," she retorted.

He lowered his spoon. "What do you expect me to say? That I purposely wanted you to be my roommate?"

She leaned over the countertop, inspecting his expression closely. "Just admit it, Irie. You wanted me to be your roommate."

"Those are high assumptions." He smirked, enjoying the wrathful image of her eyes peering at him. Her supple lips were firm, but appealing to his eyes. If he turned his head to a side, and stood on his feet, he could manage to steal a kiss from her at the very moment, and she wouldn't protest. He snickered behind his hand. She looked confused, but immediately found his silent laughter to be a distraction to her rage.

He, however, could not believe that he thought about of smashing his lips with hers. His mind was falling apart all due to one girl. He narrowed his eyes at the thought of her seducing him without knowing.

"If I told you that I didn't love you, what would you say?" she questioned. He tensed and wrapped his hand tightly around the spoon.

"That's a lie. You will always love me," he said smugly.

"If I were to say that I gave up on fighting for your love, what would you do?"

Confusion was taking a toll on his mind. Those were obvious hints blasting at his direction that Kotoko was beginning to lose interest in him. He forcibly ignored the little voice urging him to stop her from pulling away from him, but in the end of his internal struggle, he gave in to the voice and silently began to tear apart her deceit.

He looked at her. "Why should I worry when I know you have me in your heart?"

She shook her head and turned her attention to the oven. "That's what you think."

Those words were enough to make him doubt that she was not lying of what she was saying. He could hardly imagine her forgetting about him. Could there possibly be another guy that he did not know about? He laid the spoon to rest. With the bowl raised to his lips, he swallowed the milk before he pushed his seat back and placed his dishes in the sink.

Accidently, he brushed his hand over Kotoko's to grab the sponge that she was aiming for. She pulled her hand away and muttered that he can wash his dishes first. He hardly heard what she had said. Her touch left a tingle on his skin, and he craved more of it.

Again, he was thinking of thoughts that he shouldn't be thinking and hurried to finish his small task. Once complete, he dried his hands before he noticed a magazine underneath the flour bag. There, smudge in white powder, was her pink pen, that she constantly used to doodle his name in her diary—not that she knew that he took a peek—used to circle around the word, 'nurse' along with a few hearts doted around it.

He pulled away and took a seat on his previous chair. She did not seem to notice his distraction as she busied herself wiping the kitchen counter clean.

"Tell me." She did not raise her head to acknowledge him. That bothered him to extent. "What allowed you to be interested in the nursing career?"

She froze at the spot, her hand not moving the sponge across the counter. Slowly, she began to stir and resumed cleaning. "I don't know what you are talking about."

Irie smirked at her attempt to lie. "You have a magazine under the flour bag there. I noticed the label when I was drying my hands." He rested his chin on his knuckles. "Have you decided to join the nursing department?"

She pulled her hand away from the sponge and glared at him. "That's none of your business."

"Why so secretive? You are simply following my career path." And instead of being annoyed to discover that she too was following his example, he found her change of career to be enlightening. Despite his reasons, he pushed down that little voice once more urging him to kiss her senseless.

She folded her arms across her chest. Her smile appeared smug. "Have you ever thought that perhaps I have an assignment on why the majority chooses the most highly demanding careers, for example, nursing?"

He remained silent.

"That's what I thought, Irie." She stuck her tongue at him.

He wasn't easily taken by her reason. "What of the hearts that you drew?"

She thought about it for a second. "I think I'm starting to like a man in a nurse uniform."

Even though he could care less of what she did throughout the day, the thought of a man entering her life without his permission, let alone the man not being him, made him angry. When the little voice began to bug him a third time, Irie knew that his behavior around Kotoko was not normal. There was something wrong with him, and he couldn't comprehend why he felt so angry.

Gritting his teeth, he asked, "Who?"

Kotoko could barely muster a reaction to his demand. Fumbling, she answered, "I-I never said who. I just said I like men in scrubs."

The redhead was oblivious to the image that he was conjuring up in his head. He envisioned a man, with unruly black-hair and a dashing smile, waving at Kotoko before he embraced her in his pale arms.

He lowered his hands on his lap and pinched his thigh, anything to keep him distracted at the possible image of her being taken by another man. With his eyes set on hers, he watched her bend and pull out the last cake.

"You will always love me, Kotoko. Don't forget it," he reminded her.

With the cake set on the counter, she smiled at her work. "Don't be so confident, Irie. I can like whoever I want." She looked at him sternly.

Naoki put his hands on the counter. "No, you can only like me."

There was no answer on her part.

Determined to make sure she always loved him, he was about to give her more reasons of why she couldn't dislike him when the phone in his pocket began to ring. The caller id was none other than his workplace. Hurriedly, he answered and confirmed that he will be at work in a few minutes. Ending the call, he wanted to resume the conversation with her about the possibility that she may be seeing someone else. However, she busied herself with decorating the last cake and ignored his existence.

He could care less. He hurried to his room to get dressed. Having to deal with his anger, and the unknown feeling conquering his mind at the image of an unknown man seducing Kotoko, he could not comprehend the reason of why he cared so much about her actions.

xx

Work was boring.

He was working at the restaurant today. There were a few costumers lingering around, lost in their chat. He glanced at the time. Only thirty minutes were left before he could head home.

Tomorrow he would have to depart from school and hurriedly rush to his second job. Thankfully, the job was located near the campus. He worked as a cashier for a bookstore. Sometimes he hated working there. It was too quiet for his liking. He never thought that a quiet atmosphere would drive him insane without there being a sound. He blamed Kotoko, but he could hardly figure out the reason as to why.

Earlier when he wanted to confront Kotoko about her feelings toward him, he found his strange way of thinking beyond confusing, and the thought of a man being in her life, made him lose his rationality. Any man with common sense could see through her lie. Although when he was around her, his common sense had suffered due to his anger.

He became alert when a customer asked for his check. He hastily retrieved it and gave it to him with a bow of his head. As he took the debit card, and charged him for his meal, he thanked the man and his wife for coming and gave him back his card and receipt.

Clearing the table as Matsumoto joined his side with a broom and a pan in her hand, they began to clean up in haste. The jingle of the bell caught his attention. He looked toward the main entrance and saw a young female depart. For a moment there, he thought that Kotoko had discovered where he worked. A small part of him was thrilled to know that she had not found out about his workplace, but the bigger part was disappointed to discover that she was not snooping around to find him.

The minutes passed and he began to clean up the tables. The final customers left. Ten minutes before closing time. Irie constantly kept looking at the time, wishing it would go faster.

One of the female workers vacuumed nearby. The sound of the vacuum cleaner cleared his thoughts from bolting to the door. He continued to clean up, unaware that the time had jumped to nine-thirty. When he finally noticed, he took a moment to sag his shoulders in relief and proceeded to clock out. Muttering his goodbyes to his coworkers, he silently walked out the door, aware of Matsumoto walking from behind him.

"Irie, what are you doing tomorrow?"

"The same routine that I always do," he answered. "School and work."

"Oh, yes. I forgot you had a second job." He doubted that she did. "I wonder how you manage to juggle two jobs and school."

"I don't let stress get to me. Besides, I can't always depend on my parents."

She broke into a smile. "I'm amazed at your dedication to have your own independence." She remained silent for a moment. "I wonder how Kotoko is taking your departure."

There was slight creasing on his forehead. "I bet she is fine. Perhaps, even thrilled."

Yuuko chuckled. "I doubt it."

"Why do you say that?"

"She loves you." Yuuko faintly smiled. "More than enough to take a bullet for you."

Irie did not like the sound of that. "That's where she is wrong. She can't give her own life because she loves me. She is delusional and stupid."

"Oh, Irie. Love is more complicated than that." She pushed a piece of her hair behind the back of her ear. "You don't understand because you're not in love."

His footsteps began to cease. He looked at her with a hand saved in his pocket. Matsumoto crossed her arms.

"And if you do feel a slight of interest for her, you wouldn't know. The feeling would be foreign to you, maybe even confusing for you to understand."

A long silence ensued after. Slowly, with her words playing in his mind, he resumed heading home. She followed close behind. His thoughts were pulled away from reality, and locked on the subject of him having feelings toward Kotoko.

Could it be that he harbored unknown feelings for her? Could that explain of why he bought her flowers? Could that explain why he gave her a kiss on graduation day? And could that explain why he grew so angry at her for being jealous toward Matsumoto when he clearly had no feelings toward the black-hair beauty?

Slowly, everything started to make sense.

The night he kissed her, he was angry that she was going to leave him. Her dedication to win his love was going to be wasted for an inane reason. He couldn't let her throw away her efforts when he was beginning to like her.

The day he started smelling his clothes—because she washed him—were becoming his favorite pastime to do. Mainly, he smelled her clothes because it was the only thing that he had that reminded him of her. And he never knew why he did that until this day.

It was because he liked her.

And what of his decision to become a doctor? Wasn't she the one who suggested he do it? And the day they went to play volleyball at the beach, and watching her hit the ball in effort to beat him, wasn't he proud of her accomplishments?

There was no denying it. He liked her, maybe even loved her.

He became bothered when she ignored him. He became bothered of the possibility of her having a potential lover. He became bothered that she may have lost interest in him, knowing that he couldn't afford to lose her.

Because his feelings for her were more that just a crush, he loved her.

It started to rain on his way back home. He was drenched when he entered the apartment. Sitting on the sofa was Kotoko upon his entrance. She turned off the television and amusedly smiled at his soak state. Rushing to grab a towel for him, she returned and began to dry his hair.

And for the first time, he did not deny her from touching him. In fact, he quite enjoyed her hands messing with his hair.

xx

It was a first for her. Irie was staring at her as if she was someone special to him. She didn't like having his eyes on her. As a matter of fact, she didn't want to be near him. Despite her reason to depart from his side, she wasn't compelled to move. She never had the chance before to be so close to him.

Stunned at his bold move, she allowed him to grab her hands and pull them away from the towel on his head. The towel was dropped to the ground carelessly. Having his hands gripping hers was a strange sight to see. She never thought that he would ever come to touch her, not even when he took his last breath.

She looked at him, wondering what was going through his mind. Those eyes of his were no longer deprived from emotions. They were filled with countless of feelings that she couldn't find the one he was highly demonstrating. But when she finally saw the strongest feeling that he portrayed, she pulled away in shock, not believing what she saw.

For in his eyes, she saw love. And love did not suit him.

She gasped when he pulled her close to him. And when he turned his head to a side, and slowly brought his lips to hers, she found herself no longer breathing. The man that she came to accept that was not the ideal match for her was giving her a light kiss on the mouth. She couldn't comprehend why, and she began to hate him for rekindling her feelings.

After seconds past, he pulled away. There was a light smile touching his lips. He caressed her cheek, pushed away a strand of her hair, and gave a light peck on her forehead. She never presumed Irie to be affectionate.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He looked down at her. "Proving my love to you."

Her mouth opened in shock. He took that invitation and brought his lips to descend onto hers. He began to taste every part of her mouth, desperately searching a reaction from her. She couldn't dare meet his fiery passion of a kiss. She was too shocked to do anything as a matter of fact.

Pulling back, he cradled her face in the palm of his hands, and whispered, "Don't you love me, Kotoko?"

If the situation was differently, she could see herself screaming in joy and yelling out, "Yes!" There would probably be a wedding. His mother and she would officially be a family. And possibly she would have a child, a girl that resembled Irie and her. However, the sad reality was… that image could never be real because that girl, madly in love with Irie, no longer existed.

She met his eyes, and sadly shook her head.

"No, I don't."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

She never thought she would have the courage to literally say that she didn't love him. Well, her emotions for him had not disappeared. Deep down her love for him was great, but the thought of telling him the truth was not acceptable. There was no way after months, and years, of being treated like shit should she suddenly embrace him and kiss him deeply. These few weeks of gaining her independence were not for naught.

She knew living with Irie would not be a splendid idea, and it has only been a day of living together that the problems arose. She should've refused of being his roommate, but the thought of Irie living alone with a complete stranger did not settle well with her. In the end, her selfish desire to be with him was far greater than her common sense.

She hated that she couldn't think normally with him around.

He rested his hands on her shoulders and lowered his head. She wondered what was going through his mind at the moment. His white, button-up shirt clung to his skin like a tight sheet soaked in water. His black slacks appeared in the same state as she noticed the droplets of water hitting the floor tiles, the towel visible behind him.

"Irie," she called, wrapping her hand around his wrist. She pulled her hand away when she came in contact with his watch. Sleek, and expensive, the black leather watch stood out against his light skin.

"Irie."

Slowly, a reaction began to appear.

His shoulders began to shake. The grip on her arms began to increase. He looked at her with a pinch of delight seen in his eyes, but heavily mixed with hatred and despair. She gulped and brought her arms to her chest. The need to escape from his sight was highly wanted. However, the grip on her arms held her in her place. She needed to endure facing him on, even if she wanted to flee to her room.

He smiled. It was the first smile she saw of him. It was wide, showing his pearly teeth. She had to admit: he has a nice smile. Slowly, and increasingly, he began to laugh. She watched him changed from a composed, cold individual into a manic less than a second. His damp hair framed his face. A root of his hair touched a part of his lip.

She watched a droplet of water run down his throat when he threw his head back and stared at the ceiling. Gradually, his manic persona began to settle back into his cold character. The tension on her arms decreased as his hands lacked strength. She pulled away, taking two steps back and looked at her shoulder blades. They appeared red from the pressure his grip was.

She desperately wanted to change her white spaghetti-strap with a t-shirt to hide the evidence, but she refused to move from her spot, curious on what Irie was going to do next. When he lowered his head, he turned it to an angle, letting his damp locks shield his eyes.

Quietly, he spoke, "You don't love me?" If she hadn't paid attention to his lips moving, she would've thought it was her subconscious speaking.

Her heart yearned to comfort him, but she couldn't let her emotions take over her judgment. Firmly, she stood her ground, even when he approached her and wrapped his arms around her, letting his lips kiss beneath her ear.

Swallowing her fear, she confirmed, "I don't love you."

He didn't listen. He gave her kisses beneath her ear, trailing down her neck and to her shoulder before he returned to her neck and started to nip. She pulled away in haste, putting a hand over the spot he was mostly concentrating on, and hoped that he did not leave her a mark.

He zoned out on a spot on the floor, intently looking at nothing in particular, and lowered his arms. It was as if her words were barely registering in his mind and he was beginning to realize that his attempts were useless. Letting his nails dig into the palms of his hands, he began to shake in rage, and she was afraid of what he would do.

"You can't say you don't love me." He looked at her, his eyes wrathful. She met his ferocity with a glare of her own. "You never give up! You…" He started to look for words. "You can't because you loved me for more than five years! Love doesn't disappear just like that!"

She wanted to look away and begin to confess that he was right, but she crossed her arms and dug her nails into her palms.

"You can't control me, Irie!"

"I never said I was controlling you!" He started to approach her. She kept walking back and hit the coffee table. Sitting on top of it, he bended over and laid his hands at each of her sides, bringing his face close to hers. She leaned back as far as she could and laid a hand on top of her heart, the other resting on top of it.

"You can't expect me to love you in five years! I hardly knew you when we met! I started to like you on the day of our graduation! I denied it, but I knew after two years that my silly crush was more than a man in lust of a woman! It was a simple and innocent gesture of love!"

He scoffed, "And now you say you don't love me, I can see that you are lying." She withheld her gasp when his lips barely touched hers. "I know you well enough than you presume."

She turned her head when he was about to give her another kiss. He pulled slightly away.

"You don't know me enough." She closed her eyes tight. "I don't love you, Irie. I am going to forget all about you. I am going to start living an independent life without you in it. And I can assure you that I don't need any man to hold me down." She returned her attention toward him. "Not even you."

He smirked. "I won't allow that to happen."

"You can't—"

He smashed his lips against hers, taking the advantage of her anger to invade her mouth and sweep his tongue against her own. She wanted to pull away, but he placed both hands on each side of her face and refused to let her go. Seeing his eyes close, Kotoko counted in her head, anything to distract herself from wanting to return the kiss. Finally after she counted to ten, he moved his mouth away from her lips, his breathing became labored as his hands loosely kept its hold on her cheeks.

She had her chance to push him away and run to her room, but she couldn't look away from his eyes as she heard her breathing match his own. But when his thumb trailed her lips after seconds passed, she knew she couldn't let him steal another kiss when she wanted to prove a point. Pushing him roughly, she slipped past his rigid form and proceeded to head to her room.

Her arm was pulled back, feeling his fingers lightly caress her wrist. She trembled and shut her eyes, not wanting to turn and meet his hurt expression.

"How can you love me when you have Matsumoto?" she asked. "How can you love me when you treat me like crap? How can you love me when you cannot comprehend the meaning?"

He continued to caress her wrist with light touches. And instead of pulling her arm away from his hold, she allowed him that blissful pleasure, knowing that she enjoyed his touch as much as he enjoyed touching her flesh.

"I don't love Matsumoto," he began. "We are too similar." He pulled her to his chest as she twisted around to meet his face, her mouth opened in surprise. Quickly, she closed it and listened. "I treat you like crap because I wanted to push you away, but at the same time, I wanted you to be with me. I didn't know how to demonstrate how I felt. I'm genius at study, but when it comes to women I fail."

She shivered at his cold, wet garments. He continued to hold her, pushing away the hair out of her eyes. "I don't understand love because I never felt it before. I am always busy studying, trying to be the best for my family. When you came into my life, I was met with frustration. I couldn't comprehend why I felt so annoyed. I needed you to disappear, but you were always there." He gave a light chuckle. "You never left my side. I wonder at times when I began to see you differently."

He rested his forehead onto hers as she held a breath. The proximity was becoming too much for her to handle. "When Matsumoto began to tell me about how I may have feelings for you without knowing, I thought about it. I thought about what you said today, about you having a man." She denied that assumption in utterance. "And I hated the idea of you being taken away from me. I couldn't let you. I needed you with me." He pulled away from her and looked into her eyes. He rubbed a thumb on her cheek. "If that does not prove to you that I love you than tell me what I should do."

"There is nothing that you can to do."

"You had five years to change my mind. Why can't I be given the time to prove to you my love?"

Stepping out of his embrace, she shook her head. "You wouldn't know how."

"That's what you think, but you are not allowing me to demonstrate it."

There was a short pause on her side. She immensely thought about giving Irie a chance. A small part of her screamed to deny his request with a stomp of her foot, but the larger part of her, the one that yearned to kiss him deeply and confess that she dearly loved him in return, wanted to console him with an eager "Yes". In the end, she gave in to her bigger side and nodded her head.

"Okay."

He gave a faint smile, his hand reaching to touch her once more.

"However…" His hand stopped from coming in contact with her cheek. "You have until spring."

"Seven months is all I need."

"If you cannot make me love you," she continued, "don't expect me to stay here with you. I will be gone in seven months, and the minute I leave, I will never see you again."

He caressed her cheek with a glide of his fingers. "That will never happen."

"Go to sleep, Irie."

She began to depart from his sight.

"Goodnight, Kotoko."

She looked back at him once more, and whispered, "Goodnight, Irie."

Heading into her room, and closing the door behind her, she collapsed on the floor with a hand pressed against her heart. She never assumed that she had the courage to tell him how she felt. For a moment, she was proud of herself, chuckling at her determination of standing up to his cold character. But soon her chuckles turned into sobs when she realized how much she would've wanted to admit that she did love him in return.

She couldn't do it, however. She had to claim her own independence. Irie can never hurt her again. The image of her sweet, selfish old self wanting to be by Irie's side all the time no longer existed. She restrained her old self down in the pits of her memory. That girl will never emerge again.

She will prove to Irie how difficult it will be to obtain her heart. She won't be easy to win over. Although, she never thought that her heart would suffer as well.

xx

Rejected.

After building up the confidence to tell her how he felt, even composing the proper words to say to her, he was rejected at the spot. Beyond angry, he wanted to emotionally destroy her and give her the punishment she deserved. Instead, he laughed, denying that she refused his love.

Slowly, but surely, however, her words started to sink in. And he couldn't handle being rejected. He asked her once more, but again she repeated the same words from before.

"I don't love you."

Those words were enough to drive him to edge. He couldn't let her go. He transmitted his emotions into actions, planting kisses and taking her every breath until she took him in and accepted his love. Instead, he was given seven months to prove how much he loved her.

And he was willing to prove it to her.

He didn't know how. He didn't know what would be the best course of action. In the end, he relied on his intelligence by surfing the internet and finding possible solutions to win Kotoko's heart. None of the solutions given were enough to appease him.

That left him one resource.

He knew he would hate this, asking for help from _him._ But if it's to win Kotoko's heart, he knew what he had to do. But how to tell Kinnosuke was proving to be harder than expected.

The man hardly knew of his existence when he stood in front of him. He concentrated on serving food to the students. Taking the chance, Irie walked toward the window and bended over to order. The black-haired training-in-chef was not happy to see him.

"What do you want, Mr. Genius?"

His boss, a plump woman, narrowed her eyes at him. Irie knew Kinnosuke valued his job if he wanted to see Kotoko.

Without thinking, he answered, "You."

That caught Kinnosuke's attention rather quickly; however, not in the way Irie intended to grab his attention. With a shriek, he pulled away, his eyes wide in disbelief. The other students were murmuring behind him. He realized his mistake when he overheard one say, "I didn't know he was gay."

He didn't mean it in that sense. _They jumped to conclusions rather quickly_, he thought.

"I want to talk to you," he corrected. He maintained his composure, ignoring the chatter behind him that was questioning his relationship with the man in front of him. It was sad that people did not understand his tastes. Kinnosuke was by far the last person he would ever find attractive.

The man in question raised his hands, shaking his head, "Look, I'm flattered, but I'm not gay."

Growing rather annoyed with the misinterpretation, he banged his hand on the counter. "I need to talk to you about Kotoko!"

Hurriedly, he ran out of the kitchen and sat on an empty bench. Hardly thrilled to speak to him, Irie sat on the opposite side and kept his eyes focused on him. The gossip behind him, questioning his sexuality, was proving to be annoying, but he successfully ignored them.

"Why do you want to talk about Kotoko?" he questioned, leaning forward in his seat. He was attempting to look tough with his eyes narrowing and his mouth sneering. In the end, it only made him look like a fool. Irie was not scared at all.

"Nothing. I just want to talk to you."

He raised a brow.

"What do you want, Mr. Genius?" His question came out hesitant as he leaned as far away from him as he could. Irie began to twitch in annoyance. He assured himself that this was all part of the plan to win Kotoko's love. And having her love in the end of his struggles would be the greatest gift.

"I need your help."

Kinnosuke grinned and rested his elbow on the table, the other placed on his hip. He arrogantly spoke, "I never thought the day that you would seek for my help." Both hands went in the air as he shrugged. "As much as I'm flattered, I can't help you at the moment."

"You are going to help me, and I'll make sure that you do. Otherwise, I will look for you every day, until Kotoko believes that you and I are in relationship," Irie threatened.

Kinnosuke leaned forward. "You wouldn't do that." He looked around, hoping that she didn't see them.

"I would, and I would make sure to add a bit of an emphasis." He smirked, laying a hand on top of his.

Pulling his hand away in haste, Kinnosuke asked, "What do you want?"

Making sure to avoid using Kotoko's name, and describing anything about her, he asked, "What do women love the most?"

His question took the future chef by surprise. Messing with the back of his neck, he concentrated immensely on his answer. "They love a lot of things."

Irie frowned at his weak answer. "What I mean is what would you give to a woman to prove your love to her?"

"My heart."

He wanted to slap his face at the cliché answer. "I mean where would you take this woman? What would you give to her as a gift of your declaration of love?"

Kinnosuke laid his cheek on his knuckles, eyes looking up to the ceiling. "I would take her for a walk on the beach at night. The stars would look heavenly, and the water would lapse between our feet. And then when she turns, she would look at me, saying how much she loves me." He began to describe everything in detail, making Irie regret asking him. He almost believed that Kinnosuke forgot that he was even there.

"And as I give her the roses, I would go down on one knee and tell her…"

Irie left the table without bidding a farewell. There was no point of wasting his time, listening to a man describing his love toward Kotoko. He began to think of what other solution he could use to win Kotoko's heart.

Meanwhile, Kinnosuke started to end his story after minutes passed. "Not that you would ever understand my love to her." He lowered his head to stare at Irie, but he was met with an empty chair. He blinked his eyes several times, pondering on where Mr. Genius had left to.

xx

Satomi and Jinko were insufferable to be around with, but their friendship with Kotoko was admirable. Instead of answering his question of what Kotoko would like, they began to dub his reason as a way to humiliate their friend further.

"Why do you want to know?" Jinko questioned.

"Why do you care?" Satomi asked in turn.

"Can't you see Kotoko suffers because of you?" Jinko took the second jab.

"You don't deserve her," Satomi inputted.

There was no end to their babble. He was growing irritated by the second, unable to handle their frail accusations. Jinko and Satomi noticed his mood had drastically changed and became silent in an instant.

Forcing a smile, he said, "I merely want to know what she would like, not to humiliate her or to put her down, but to respect her ideals."

Appearing baffled by his words, they took a few steps back in haste and huddled closely to decide whether they should help him or not. Jinko kept shaking her head, whispering most likely to Satomi that Irie did not appear sincere with his words. Nodding their heads in agreement, they appeared before him, arms linked together to form a tight group. But even their tight bond was proving frail when Jinko wanted to leave from his presence, but Satomi kept pulling her arm back.

"As much as we would like to help you, we can't," she answered. "We have other plans to do."

Jinko nodded in agreement. "Yes, we have to study for a test."

He offered another smile to them. Jinko and Satomi weakly smiled in return. "Then allow me to be your tutor."

They were baffled again, unsure of what to say. Satomi began to protest, "It's not something you would know about."

"I can learn quickly."

"It's about the female organs and how they function," Jinko added in.

"I'm becoming a doctor. I obviously know that information." He paused for a moment and tucked his hand into one of his pockets. "I didn't know you have an anatomy class."

They laughed sheepishly and looked at each other. Grabbing a tight hold of Jinko's hand, Satomi feigned a gasp and pointed behind him. "Look, it's Kotoko!"

Jinko looked and scratched her cheek. "I don't see Kotoko."

Satomi chuckled nervously and dragged her friend as she practically ran from Irie's sight. Irie frowned, hating that his chance of finding Kotoko's interests lay in them. Pulling his bag over his shoulder, he headed toward his class and began to look for his third chance of finding the proper information to prove his love for Kotoko in a gift that she would admire.

His answer came down to his mother. And standing before the main entrance door, his forehead began to throb. Letting out a big sigh, he rang the doorbell. Sometimes he wished he never gave his mother the house keys when he moved out, but he always thought he would never return home after he left.

How wrong he was.

The door opened, revealing his smiling mother and her short, curly bob haircut.

"Hello, Mother," he greeted.

Realizing it was her son in front of her, her mother scowled and tapped her foot, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Hello, Irie."

He was starting to regret coming to his mother, but he needed help, not that he would admit it to her.

"I wanted to ask what Kotoko would like for…" He began to ponder for a reason, until he realized her birthday was drawing near. "…her birthday."

At the mention of her possible future-daughter-in-law, his mother brightened with a smile, but quickly pulled out a handkerchief and lightly pressed it against her watery eyes.

"My dear Kotoko." She blew her nose in the handkerchief. Irie took a step back in disgust. "It's your fault! If you hadn't left, Kotoko would still be here!" She leaned forward with a scowl, both her knuckles were pressed against her hips, the handkerchief still held in between her fingers.

"She is fine."

"She is not fine!" his mother stated. "She is out there alone, fighting for survival." She wiped a tear off her face.

"She is fine. She is living nearby," he lied, intentionally avoiding telling his mother the truth that Kotoko was in fact living with him. If his mother ever found out, she would constantly interfere in their relationship, and he didn't want her to meddle with his affairs with Kotoko, not when he barely told her the truth of how he felt. Hopefully, Kotoko would not brag to his mother how she managed to win the heart of the cold Irie.

"And how do you know that?"

He lowered his bag off his shoulder. "I talk to her, and help her when she needs help."

His mother squealed at that information and pulled him inside the house, slamming the door behind him. Preparing a meal for him to eat, he politely thanked her. She took a seat across from him and gave him a huge smile.

"I have to get to work soon."

"Call in sick."

He already did that. He just needed an excuse to escape.

"So, are you really helping out Kotoko?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "I just couldn't ignore her—not that I was looking for her."

She began to slap her hands together in delight, a gesture that reminded him of Kotoko. He began to miss her already, wanting to prove his love once more through an exchange of kisses and hugs, not that he would expect to receive any affection in return from her. In the end, he didn't care. The simple pleasure of being able to touch her was his personal heaven.

Finding his mother's face leaning closer to his, however, was a sight that made him frown. He was beginning to regret coming to his home asking for his mother's advice when clearly she had other intentions.

And his assumption came from a simple, _innocent_ question of hers: "Where do you live?"

He silently took a sip of his tea.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

After the unsuccessful attempt of getting his mother to help him of attaining a gift for Kotoko, he simply wandered back to his apartment, cautiously looking over his shoulder that his mother did not follow him. He never caught a glimpse of her, but to be sure, he took the longer route home, and walked into big crowds. Eventually, he took the transport home, knowing for a fact that his mother would have lost him among the heavy crowd.

Preparing to greet his beautiful girl, he opened the door to a quiet apartment. The light from the kitchen exhaust fan gave a shallow glow, but it was enough for him to see through the dim room. The television was off. The leather couch was empty, but the lingering aroma of her heavy perfume could be found on the pillows adorn to a side. The simple coffee table appeared untouched, not a trace of her signature mark of carelessly leaving the remote was found.

He slipped off his shoes and set them near the side. Her white shoes were not found as he discovered. She had left, presumably to work. It was the third day of living together and already he began to miss her. The ticking of the clock was a sound he had long forgotten. He sat on the couch, unbuttoning the top portion of his shirt and exposed a partial of his chest.

He leaned comfortably into his seat, his head thrown back as he stared at the ceiling with no idle purpose. The minutes dragged and he let his eyes closed momentarily. Uncomfortable of the position that he had his head, he dragged his head down and lifted it as his eyes zoned on the main entrance door, waiting for his girl to arrive.

She wasn't necessarily his girl to begin with, but the thought of dubbing her that pleased him. He would never say it out loud. He already made a fool of himself by exposing his inner-feelings. Perhaps, he should revert back to his original persona, to the cold-hearted individual that he was infamously known for. Then she would recognize him and fall in love with him just like before.

He laughed, throwing his head back. In sheer mockery, he realized that Kotoko would merely distance herself and ignore him further. And he, through his deep, haze of love, could not let her go. The thought of proving his love to her clouded his mind once more.

What can he initially do for her to realize how much he needed her? He pondered immensely on the thought, recollecting in his memories the personal decisions she had to do to display her affection to him.

Then it hit him. He knew what he had to do. He burst into a smile, but he instantly sealed it away by forcing his mouth into a tight line when Kotoko graced the apartment with her presence. Flicking on the light, she took off her shoes and raised her head from her purse. She stumbled in fright, not noticing that he was sitting on the couch, aware of her entrance.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He didn't answer. He stood up from his seat and walked toward her. She leaned her head back when he brought his lips to her cheek and planted a kiss. Unused to his affection, she gingerly tapped his shoulder as her way of partially receiving him with a greeting. Naoki pulled her into an embrace, hearing a small, "Eek," slip from her lips.

"Heh… I missed you, too?" she said, sounding confused.

"I missed you as well," he said in return, confidently.

The soft tendrils of her hair slipped through his fingers as he played with it tenderly. She shivered in his touch, unaccustomed to his display of affection. He let his hand fall on her back, lightly touching the curve of her spine. Instinctively, he lowered his head and placed a kiss on her cheek before he led a pattern of kisses toward the heavy pulse vibrating against her neck.

Uncomfortable, she pushed him away and gave him a tentative smile.

"Don't do that," she commented.

She stepped out of his line of vision and placed her purse on top of the kitchen counter, the apartment keys along with it. Rummaging through the fridge, she leaned over and pushed a few things aside before she found her peanut-butter and jelly smuckers. She turned with a bright smile, and he graciously gave a faint one in return.

Ripping the plastic at one corner, she disposed of it in the trash and took a bite of her sweet sandwich. She looked at him and offered him a bite.

"Want some?" she said with her mouth half-full.

Not fond of sweets, he did not discard the offer, however, as he leaned forward and took a bite out of her sandwich. She gave him a bright smile, noticing the peanut butter smeared against her teeth, as she took another bite.

As he chewed, and heard her hum a silly tune, he realized that she sincerely deserved the many gifts that he would prepare for her. And he couldn't deny that his eagerness to start was showing as the corner of his lips tugged into a smile. He could hardly wait for her birthday to arrive; one week from now it would come.

Kotoko will never expect his gifts.

xx

September 28.

The clock chimed at seven a.m. Her hand slipped from underneath her covers, searching for the noisy contraption before she felt the round button and slammed it off. The blankets were thrown off her head as she stretched her arms, yawning as she did.

Today was the day she turned twenty. She was beyond thrilled for the day to start, expecting embraces from her friends. Unfortunately, her birthday had to land on a school day, Thursday to be exact. It didn't matter in the end as she thought about it. Tomorrow, her three-day weekend will begin, and she could celebrate her birthday in the company of her friends.

Pulling the sheets off her legs, she moved her feet toward the ground, placing them in her slippers, and headed toward the bathroom. The light flicked on when she turned on the switch. She continued yawning when she grabbed her toothbrush, tired still from her rigorous studying. Cleaning her mouth, she looked into the mirror, until she leaned forward in disbelief.

Behind her, a folded, white paper was taped to the second door that led to the small hallway. She finished brushing her teeth and turned, peeling the tape off the door as she held the folded paper in her hands. Returning to her room, she sat on the bed, quizzically examining the paper in her hand before she unfolded it.

Her eyes grew wide in shock. The handwriting was immediately recognizable, belonging to only one person. The letter read:

_Although, I come off as a jerk, I could never forget the way you were instantly heartbroken when I told you that I did not want to read your love letter. Did you know that I had stolen it from your room and kept it? Don't bother looking for it. I keep all the stuff you give me in a secret place. But, today, let's not talk about our past. Let's celebrate a joyous day—one that is revolved around you. It is, after all, your birthday. _

_So tell me, sweet Kotoko, what is it that you want? _

With a gasp slipping from her mouth, she smothered it and stared at the letter in horror. Her brain could not comprehend her sputtering words. She pulled the letter close to her chest, wrinkling under the weight of her tight fingertips, as her words finally became coherent.

"Irie gave me a love letter."

It wasn't a love letter per say, but it was a still a letter reeking of his soft affection toward her. She gasped a second time and flew backward in her bed. Her eyes swirled in confusion, unable to handle the unexpected actions of Irie Naoki.

xx

She was going to forget about what happened in the morning and concentrate on school. Her counselor informed her that if she passed this semester, and take the winter session, there was a probability that she can sign up for the nursing program in April. Hopefully, the classes she takes next spring would boost up her overall GPA as well. That would give her a fighting chance to have a spot in the program among the hundreds that are waiting for a chance to enter. She prayed to whatever deity to give her the strength to pass the classes so that she can enter into the nursing field by next fall.

As she reeled back into reality, she looked at the math book in her hand.

There was a big math test coming around the corner, next Tuesday to be exact. She was bad in exams, always second guessing her responses, even though the majority of the time the first answer she picked was the correct one. Hopefully, by reading, she would know the answers to the upcoming questions; otherwise, she would stress, and deliberately pull out her hair in frustration.

She took a seat in the library and laid the book on the table. What a day to spend her birthday in the library alone with information that was hard for her to comprehend, but she was willing to force her brain to understand the material. After all, her future was in her hands. She threw a punch in the air, determined to pass the upcoming test. Looking at the book, she knew that there was no time to dally.

Opening it, she gasped, throwing her arms in the air before her seat flew backward, taking her with it. The students in the library looked at her, pondering on what could have caused her to fall back. Quickly, she stood up from the ground, pulling the chair upright and apologizing to everyone for the ruckus she caused. Taking a seat, she stared at the second gift Naoki made for her and pulled it from its string.

Staring back at her was a miniature face of Irie's expression sticking out his tongue. Her fingers glided over the thread he had used to sown the piece together masterfully. There was not a single thread out of place. His hands were surely the hands of a perfectionist. She chuckled and turned it over.

On the back it read, "Lucky Charm."

She began to giggle, smothering the sound with her hand. With a fervor determination, she held her lucky charm in one hand and began to study for her math exam.

She was beginning to like this new Irie.

xx

Her stomach began to growl inconsistently, making her concentration conjure up images of food, as the text before her transformed into ingredients. Her stomach growled once more, causing her to flush in embarrassment as a few students caught the sound and looked at her. With her arms covering her stomach, she gave an awkward smile toward their direction before she began to save her things and took off to the cafeteria.

There was a line at the food section upon her discovery. She heard her stomach growl in protest, perhaps, annoyed such as she, for having to wait for her meal. She patted her tummy with one hand, the other holding her book, as she attempted to comfort it. It simply continued to cry louder. With a curse, she was about to head toward the soda machine to alleviate a portion of her hunger when, out of nowhere, Jinko and Satomi arrived with a peculiar gift. Satomi was the one holding it before she robotically gave it to her.

Taking it from her hands, while giving her book to Jinko to hold, Kotoko looked at the lunch pail in her hands. It had a cute, gray owl designed in the front as the rest of the material was coated in a light blue color. She smiled, liking how her gift portrayed the child inside of her. Looking at her friends, she noticed that their eyes were wide in shock, and their mouths were partially opened.

She couldn't quite comprehend their strange behavior.

"Thank you for the gift. I really like it."

Upon her surprise, when she pulled the zipper to open it, she discovered a container of food. A huge smile took her face as her stomach growled at the sight of it.

"Thank you, guys! I was really hungry!"

She took her meal toward an empty table, her friends lingering behind her. Grabbing the chopsticks saved neatly to a side, she began to open her container. Her friends were quickly pulled from their trance and slammed their hands on the table.

"Don't eat it!" Their exclamation of urgency had gathered the attention of the entire students to turn towards them.

"Why not? It smells good." She picked up a handful of rice and began to move it toward her mouth.

In unison, they cried, standing up from their seats, "Irie made it!"

The rice tasted heavenly in her mouth, but upon hearing Irie's name, she couldn't help but to spit it out in shock.

xx

Kotoko cautiously made her way home, sneaking around the apartment building, as she ensured that Irie was not going to surprise her a fourth time with his unexpected behavior.

First, it was the letter. Then, it was the lucky charm he made for her. And, lastly, the third gift came in a meal made especially from his hands, the taste still lingering in her mouth. She never tasted such divine cooking before, aside from Mrs. Irie, and that one time he cooked for her, but he managed to reduce his mother's culinary skills to a mere mediocre. He was truly the best at everything.

Slowly, she stepped into the apartment, with her books held in one hand, and backpack slung over her shoulder. The kitchen light was turned on, but she didn't see Irie in the living room. His bedroom door was closed, although she knew he would have greeted her the moment he heard the entrance door open.

She looked at the time. It was 8 o'clock at night. He would be arriving home soon. Perhaps, he left the light on accidently and forgot to turn it off when he left to work. Taking that as the probable excuse as to why the kitchen light was on, she headed toward her room.

When she opened her bedroom door, she never expected for her room to be captivated by orange hues dimly lighting the room. She dropped her backpack to the ground and hesitantly made her way toward her bed. The candles were seen on her dressers; three were lit up. There, on her white, floral sheets, laid a heart-shaped box tied with a yellow ribbon.

She crept closer, looking around her as if she was expecting for Irie to appear. With the books dropped on the edge of her mattress, she touched the heart-shaped box with a glide of her fingers. The rough material of the ribbon greeted her soft fingertips.

Slowly, she began to untie the ribbon, before she pulled it opened with an eager thirst to taste the sweet delights. She licked her lips, taking in the different shapes of the chocolate in front of her. All she wanted to do was to pluck one into her mouth, but instead she placed the cover over it, wanting to eat a decent meal first. After, she would treat herself with a chocolate as dessert.

"Happy birthday, Kotoko."

She jumped at the sound of his voice, unaware that she gripped the box close to her chest. Turning her head, she looked at Irie as he stood by the dresser. The orange hues of the flame gave him an alluring expression, as if he was telling her to come closer with an index of his finger, but she firmly denied taking such action.

Instead, he went to her, taking the box out of her hands and laid it on top of the comforter. With her free hands, he cupped her palms and faintly smiled.

"Happy birthday…" He kissed her forehead. "…Kotoko."

With her eyes drawn to his face, she was memorized by his beautiful eyes, never imaging that his eyes would tinkle and be filled with love. Barely aware of his lips coming close to hers, she laid a hand against his chest, and felt his hand press against her lower back. His lips were soft, just as she remembered them, before she was devoured in a passionate kiss, feeling his tongue lash against hers.

And for the first time, she gave into that kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck for support. He seemed surprised, letting his hands grip her hips as he deepened the kiss. There was a slight tug pulling at the corner of her lip. Slowly, she began to smile and pulled away. He protested in a grunt, and looked at her, waiting for an explanation as to why their kiss was broken.

Her smile began to turn into a toothy grin.

With her hands brought behind her, she leaned forward and whispered into his ear, "Serves you right, Irie."

Slowly, she pulled back and stuck out her tongue at him in a childish manner. Taking his shock expression to escape, she retreated to the kitchen and began to search for something to eat. Gradually, she heard a sound, and she could merely envision his shoulders trembling and his hands loosening by his sides as the first sound of his chuckles sprang forth. Soon, his chuckles increased into a booming laughter, unable to hold her chuckle from leaving her lips as well.

Tonight, she will indulge Irie. Tomorrow, she would make him strive harder to win her heart. After all, Kotoko Aihara would not be an easy catch for the cold Irie Naoki.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Naoki had begun an obsession.

It's been two weeks since it began. Halloween was just another two weeks away.

His obsession had turn out as sweet, but now it worried Kotoko that he would place his entire life, not only into studying, but into her as well. He would follow Kotoko, almost consistently throughout the day, apart from work. The young woman would turn back, glancing to catch his gray eyes staring straight at her before she turned her head away, her gaze locked ahead. Kotoko questioned him once about his reason of trailing behind her. Irie had simply smiled and had pushed a strand of her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

He had dubbed her as special, but she hardly believed that she was special of garnering his attention. By all reasonability, he should be avoiding her as he did before when they stepped on campus. But at the current moment he seemed desperate of trying to win her heart. Though he does not overly show his emotions as he does in their apartment, he kept his emotions at bay when they were around people, only reducing his deep affection by mere touches to her arm and cheeks.

At first, everyone that she knew thought nothing of it. However, as weeks passed, it became apparent to them that Irie was not his natural self, noticing his serious mood would lighten at the sight of Aihara. Kinnosuke was the first to start questioning his motives, but Naoki was still the same toward him, never answering to his demands of inquiry and completely ignoring him.

Matsumoto as well became impatient, but in her own way, she began to interrogate him with subtle teases toward Kotoko, hoping for a chance for him to add onto her insults. In the end, he walked away, heading toward his next class, leaving a rather despondent Matsumoto behind. At first, Kotoko wanted to put her down, but seeing a rejected Matsumoto watching Irie depart in silence kept her from boasting of winning Irie's heart.

By experience, Kotoko knew the feeling of rejection. It could be described as if your heart had burst into million pieces as you replay the scene over and over, pondering on what went wrong. She knew it all too well. Irie was responsible for that.

Finally, the black-hair beauty turned her eyes toward Kotoko and smiled sincerely for the first time. It took the redhead by surprise as Matsumoto departed with her arms crossed over her chest. As she past, Kotoko held in a breath when Matsumoto spoke, "In the end, you won."

And she continued to retreat, never looking back to catch a glimpse of Kotoko's eyes cast in sorrow.

She wanted to tell her that Irie was not hers. They were not officially dating after all. But the words never left her mouth. For a moment, the feeling of guilt engulfed her from head to toe. Although it wasn't her fault that Irie's affection was placed on her, she couldn't help but feel as though she had ruined a potential relationship between the two.

Jinko and Satomi reassured her that it wasn't her fault that she was in love with the cold-hearted Irie Naoki. However, Kotoko couldn't help but wonder the possibility of Irie being happy with Matsumoto if she just let them be.

She sighed.

There was no point of reminiscing the 'what if's' when clearly the situation has passed. She glanced around her. Work was busy as usual. A few customers had left the restaurant; however, fresh ones entered and took their place. She put on a bright smile and welcomed them.

As usual, she took them to their seats, repeating the same words, "Would you like anything to drink?" before she took her position in the front, a waiter already attending the customers with the drinks that she requested.

The pattern continued to resume that way for a couple hours. Monday was never known to be packed at the restaurant. Friday, however, was the start of the three-day weekend, bringing mostly everyone down the street to dine at the place she worked. Focusing her attention around her, she headed toward the front to where her pedestal stood.

The door jingled, welcoming the next customer. Looking toward the main entrance, she was about greet the person, but stopped when she noticed who it was. With a forced smile, and ignoring the heavy thuds of her heart racing against her chest, she greeted her most returning customer, Irie Naoki. She presumed that he had work today, but it seemed most likely that he had asked for a day off in preparation for the midterms he had this week.

"Hello." She looked behind him, wondering—as she always does—if he brought someone along. "Only one today?"

He nodded his head. Grabbing a menu, she led him toward a reclusive spot near a corner, the same booth that she always sat him in. And as always, he preferred the side where he could keep his eyes on her as he slid between the table and his seat with ease. He opened the menu and scanned the contents.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Water would be fine."

She nodded her head and began to retreat. With a tug around her wrist, she turned to him in alarm, pondering the reason as to why he attained her from leaving.

"Are you almost done with your shift?" he asked, letting her go instantly.

"Almost."

He seemed satisfied with that answer as he resumed looking at the menu. "I want to talk to you."

Kotoko numbly nodded her head and retreated toward the front of the entrance, not wanting to ponder on what he had to discuss with her. A waitress was now attending to Irie's request. With a smile, she bid farewell to the customers and greeted the newly arrivals the same. The restaurant would be closing soon. She smiled at the thought of jumping onto her bed and sleeping away. Too wrapped in her thoughts, she was mindlessly unaware of a customer approaching from a side until she noticed his hand waving in her face, stripping her from the imagery of her bed.

Irie was not the only customer returning to the restaurant as weekly as he did. In front of her, a man in his mid-twenties, boring soft green eyes, a strong, angular jaw, full lips, and cropped, short hair greeted her. His smile, lifting his high cheekbones, melted her heart at the strong, but highly favorable appearance he carried. The man, although, he was not handsome as Irie, was cute enough to make her heart skip a beat.

"Oh, hello, sir." His timid green eyes met her own. "Is there something you need?"

He ruffled the back of his short blond locks with a pale hand and nervously gave a smile. "Um… I was wondering if you were…"

Her attention was caught toward the door as a family left.

"Have a nice evening!" she shouted at them. The father merely waved and left the restaurant with his family in tow. Putting her attention toward the stranger to a side, she noticed that he was scrambling information on a piece of paper. Her immediate curiosity to inquire what he was writing slipped into the air as a soft demand.

Hesitantly, he stopped writing, clicking his pen and saving it inside his jacket.

"Read it when you have a chance."

Lurching forward and grabbing her hand, he slapped the paper against her palm. She looked at their conjoined hands before he removed his hand, leaving behind the paper. Questioning his actions, she gazed at him, wanting to ask him once more what it was, but he left in a hurry through the exit.

She awkwardly gave a farewell to his retreating form. Thrusting the paper in her pocket as irrelevant, she resumed doing her job before she realized that the restaurant was closing in one hour. Withholding a sigh, she glanced toward Irie, and for the first time, she felt a similar sensation tingle her skin in discomfort.

Irie appeared angry.

And she didn't know why.

xx

Heading home with Irie by her side was awkward. She wanted to say something, anything for her fear to settle down as the extreme radiance of his rage vibrated through his aura. She dare not touch him to gain his attention. And she dare not look into his eyes. Breathing was becoming difficult, feeling faint of his shoulder accidently brushing against her own.

Taking a step away from him, she felt the tension on her shoulders ease little. However, he crept closer to her once more when she felt his arm brush against her own, this time purposely. She kept quiet, mostly because Irie did not appear in the mood to chat, throughout their small journey of returning home.

The silent, but tense atmosphere was killing her. She needed him to talk; to hear his lovely words that she was his special girl. Instead when they reached the apartment, the first words out of his mouth when they ascended toward the second level was: "You're not pretty."

She stopped mid-step, confused on what she heard. Irie continued up the steps and took the key out of his pocket. Inserting it into the keyhole, he twisted and opened the door to their home. She could hear the keys jingle when he tossed them on the counter top. Closing the door behind her with a soft click, she turned toward him as he took a seat on the leather couch, opening his textbook to study.

Confused by his behavior, she prefer not knowing what had made him upset. There was that high chance that he would continue to insult her if she engaged in a conversation with him about his questionable behavior. Arguing at the moment was the last thing she wanted.

She dug her hands into her pockets before she felt a piece of paper, the one the customer left her, touch her fingertips. Carefully, she pulled it out and unfolded it. There, in neat writing, was the name Kai, and underneath his name, his number. She looked at the little note he left to a side of his name.

_Call me if you want to chat over a cup of coffee. It would be nice to get to know you._

A soft smile tugged her lips. She never had been asked on date before. Perhaps, she had but could not recall the date. It didn't matter. It made her giddy to know that a man was extremely interested without him knowing of her struggle of attending school and the drama between her and her roommate. She pondered on the thought of calling him, but with a reluctant sigh she decided against it.

A boyfriend at the moment wasn't on her list, not when she had a man already pursuing to win her heart. She wondered what Irie would think if she went on a date with Kai. Looking up from the small paper, she turned her eyes toward him, surprised that his attention was focused on her all the time.

Nervously, she gave a tentative smile.

"What's that?" He motioned his head toward the object in her hand. "A declaration of love?"

"If it was a love letter, it wouldn't be written on a small piece of paper," she teased, putting her hands on her hips.

He looked away in annoyance.

Her hands were lowered to her side. She crept closer to him and sat on the recliner next to the coffee table. Folding one leg on her seat, the other resting on the ground, she looked at the number in her hands, faintly smiling when she brushed her thumb over Kai's name.

"It's a number from a customer. He wants to get to know me over a cup of coffee," she said.

"I don't know why he bothers." She looked at him in perplex. "You're not that fascinating."

A draft of silence crept between the two along with the heavy tension. Her mouth opened and closed, wanting to question the insults that he was throwing at her. Instead, she closed her mouth, and gathered her thoughts before she calmly stared into his wild gray eyes.

"I don't understand."

He smirked, looking away. "Typical of you." He flipped a page of his book, digesting the text into memory. "And here I thought you were getting smarter. Well, it's not a surprise." His eyes tore away from the page and bore into hers. "Once a failure, always a failure. It's why you belong to Class F. Even the letter of your ranking classifies what you are."

The silence waded back in between them. Kotoko, shocked at his harsh words, silently said nothing. Pleased with her reaction, he resumed reading his book, acting oblivious to the fact that he had insulted her seconds ago. Finally, after minutes of processing his words in her mind, she began to take deep breaths.

Crumbling the paper in her hands, she looked at Irie, taking in his smug expression, the arrogance of his posture with fervor hatred.

"Just like your ranking, Class A stands for what you are, an asshole!"

"Yes, but you see…" He flipped another page. "…this asshole has been successful in life. Can it be said the same thing about you?"

And for the first time, Kotoko did the unthinkable. She lunged from her seat and tackled him to the ground with a loud cry. She didn't care if she banged her elbow against the coffee table. She didn't care if he ripped the page that he was holding when she threw herself against him. All that matter was to restore her dignity.

Kotoko was never a violent person. On the contrary, she was more of a pacifist, believing that violence was not necessary to use but words alone can be powerful enough to make a point. Despite her judgment of detesting violence, Kotoko couldn't stop the overwhelming, burning sensation running through her veins when she tackled him on pure instinct.

She tried to restrain her anger. She tried to let his insults slide off her skin, but the last comment—of her being unsuccessful in life—bugged her to an extent. Didn't he see how much she tried to be independent? Didn't he see her determination to study? Why does he have to always put her down? She was tired of being the failure in the house; tired of his insults of her being incompetent in life.

In a way, tackling Irie was the medicine she needed to vent out her rage. Even though she should've walked away as the more mature person, she took an alternative, placing her frustration with each pounding fist against his arms, which was currently shielding his face.

With a hot tears leaking from her eyes, she gave out another cry when he flipped her over, slamming her back against the floor, his hands restraining her arms. The coffee table flipped over. His textbooks slipped toward the ground in a thud, the papers ruffled when it fell.

"You are such a prick! I'm so glad that I don't love you!" she shouted in his face.

He 'hmphed' at that.

"Keep lying." He leaned forward, his peppermint breath wafted toward her nose. "You will always love me. It's what your type…" She growled at the word. "…are known for. You know that you're a failure. So, in the end, you begin to fantasize of marrying the perfect husband to support you." He leaned away. "And thus began your silly intention of trying to win my heart. You really are pathetic."

Her eyes began to water. She desperately wanted to cry. Irie was just too cruel. But—her eyes held a spark of determination—if she was going to suffer than he too would suffer as well. Without a second thought, she head-butted him in the face, ignoring the dreadful pain throbbing against her forehead when she scrambled away from his loose restraints, while hearing a loud groan emit from his mouth. With her hand pressed against her forehead, she smiled and chuckled when she saw blood seeping from his nose and marring his delicate hands.

"You deserve it!" she shouted.

She ambled toward her room, but the sound of his laughter had stopped her from leaving the living room.

xx

His hands were tainted with his blood. A few drops stained his white shirt, but Irie didn't care. He deserved the rough treatment of being cruel to the one he loved. He couldn't comprehend the feeling in his chest. The thought of a man taking her away was beyond frightening to imagine.

Here he was trying to win her affection, doing things he never done before. And instead this man barges into her life with a simple greeting and hands her a piece of paper with his number making her smile at his sweet attempt. He tried so hard to win her attention by touching her and speaking to her in love, but, as she held the paper in her hand, he realized his attempts were scarcely admirable when she kept ignoring his advances.

That's why he couldn't help but insult her. The pressure in his heart kept building up with rage mixed heavily with an emotion that he could hardly decipher. It didn't matter what the new emotion was. He felt satisfied when he hurt her, even though his heart broke when he meant nothing of what he said.

In a fit of rage, he knew he never thought clearly, especially when he wanted to hurt her, to replace the feeling of hopelessness with satisfaction. But now, as he rested on his knees, he realized how foolish he was. That's why he couldn't help but laugh for a brief moment. He stood up from his spot, turning slowly to face her.

She noticed that in his hand he currently held the piece of paper that she was holding prior. With his front teeth tainted crimson, and the blood continuously dripping from his nose, he smirked and ripped the paper in two. With narrow eyes, he headed toward the kitchen to grab some napkins, muttering as he passed her, "You belong to me. Don't forget that."

The seconds continued to drag as she stood there, her fists shaking uncontrollably by her side. When he cleaned up his bloody face and hands, he caught her eyes glaring at him, her mouth turning into a scowl.

"You jealous bastard," she voiced in rage.

Could jealousy be the feeling that was heavily mixed with his rage and possessiveness over her?

He raised a brow.

It made sense as he thought about it. He was never good at keeping his anger intact, and it seemed his jealousy was going to be a problem as well. Hearing her rough stomps depart from his presence, and her bedroom door slamming harshly against its hinges, Irie leaned his head back, knowing that he screwed his chance of winning her love.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

A week and one day slithered past of unbearable silence between the two roommates. The sound of the clock ticking was driving Kotoko mad. How much longer will the silence continue to linger? Irie surely had no intention of reconciling their differences. And if he was not going to speak to her then she was not willing to speak to him either.

Their argument, fresh in her memory, blocked her from taking any action. A course of fury ran through her veins, remembering his possessive and jealous nature toward Kai who merely asked for her to join him for a cup of coffee.

Sometimes she hated the fact, that no matter the circumstances that they were in, a heavy part of her—the most loathsome part—was still in love with Irie. She needed to stop acting like a child and speak to him directly—but not at the moment. She was still mad at him—especially since he hadn't apologized. Hopefully, today would brighten her day and distract her from thinking about him.

Until Kotoko realized that today was Monday.

How she hated Mondays. They brought nothing but misery at the constant reminder of the events that were waiting for her the minute she left her bed. If only she could manage to evade everything and continuing snuggling her pillow, but with the persistent knocking on her door, she couldn't bring herself to fall asleep.

She groaned, grabbing a pillow from her side and placing it over head, anything to tune out the sounds.

"Kotoko!"

She threw the pillow from her head, the covers soon following afterward. Marching toward the door, she banged the door and Irie childishly banged back.

"Go away!" she shouted.

"I don't have time for this game!"

"I don't have time for you!" she returned, glaring at the door.

He pounded the door once more before his retreating steps went toward the main door, taking in his daft aura with a bang. A loud curse left her lips as she hurriedly rushed toward her closest, pulling out clothes and running toward the bathroom to do her necessity.

Irie managed to leave without her. Could he not have waited?

Clearly, her indecisiveness of staying mad at her roommate or not was waning her personality. In the back of her mind, the urge to forgive him rang high; however, to accept his stupidity was to accept his flaw character with no remorse—and she could not give him the pleasure of her swift clemency. In the end, she pulled away from him, not wanting to be around his presence. And though she pulled away, she was hoping for the chance to hear those words that she longed to hear: Irie pleading for her forgiveness.

Dodging the situation of when he had the numerous of opportunities to seek for pardon, he would insult her instead—degrade her in a way that was deem as bully on a high streak of making the victim squirm in pain. She knew the pain was the estimate proof of leaving him in the dust and recollecting herself in the arms of another, but her stubbornness to leave the apartment was her biggest flaw.

She could not leave him, not even if she tried.

Irie had her wrapped around his finger unknowingly—or, perhaps, he knew all along what he was capable of doing with her.

She tracked the time. Class would begin soon. Running toward the main entrance, backpack slung over one shoulder, she closed the door behind her, locked it, and rushed toward the campus. To her utter surprise leaning against the gate that surrounded the apartment buildings was Irie. He took a moment to look away from the ground and stared into her disbelief expression.

She would've thought he was sincerely trying to win her affection by assuring her that he was a gentleman at heart, but instead her high hopes were dashed when he spoke, "Because of you, we are going to be late. You should have left behind your stupidity and tardiness in your bed."

She scowled and clenched a fist, watching as he turned his back and aimed his feet toward the campus ground. Pumping a fist in the air, wildly moving it around, she called him obscene names, waiting for a reaction to stir. He did not turn around nor alter his steps. Eyes set on the sidewalk ahead of him, he was barely aware of her presence near his side, tentatively touching his arm with soft fingers.

He scowled and pulled his arm away from her grasp. Kotoko merely huffed, lifting her chin haughtily away from his direction, arms crossed over her chest.

"I don't know why you bothered waiting for me! You jerk!"

The sound of his barely audible grunt was passable enough for her to believe that he could care less of what she thought of him. She examined him from the corner of her eye, taking in the exhaustion leaking above his cheekbones, and his distraught appearance. For once, Irie's sleek, polished red-shirt managed to appear ruffled. The first few buttons were left opened, revealing a tad glimpse of skin. His hair was wild as if he barely managed to sleep, presumably consumed such as she from reliving the day they both argued over a silly situation.

She looked away from him, not wanting to remember the night their relationship crumbled beneath her heel. Suppressing a sigh, she walked ahead, leaving him behind her rapid steps. He kept his pace steady, catching up to her in seconds. Feeling the brush of his hand touch her arm, she lowered her eyes, surprised that he purposely inched toward her hand.

With a whirl of her feet, she turned toward him, placing a hand in front of her chest. Stunned, he halted in his steps in time to avoid her incoming strike toward his face. He leaned back, feeling the brush of her fingertips faintly touch the tip of his barely noticeable bruised nose.

"What do you think you're doing, idiot?!"

He looked at her puzzlingly, uncomprehending her sudden outburst.

"First, you act like a jerk, and now you want to hold my hand! I don't understand you, Irie!"

She radiated a heavy dose of rage toward his direction and he merely acknowledged it with a scowl. Trudging past her, without giving an explanation to his action, he continued toward campus.

However, she insistently appeared at his side, demanding a reason to understand his strange, conflicting behavior. With a whip of his heel, he took a hold of her palm. And she, in shock, merely fell into his chest, staring into his narrow eyes and noticing the bags underneath.

"I don't have to explain my actions to you," he gritted coldly.

His lips were dangerously close. All logic escaped the window when she wished to claim them in a brutal kiss. He realized her intentions when a cloud of lust took her eyes and her sole gaze were locked on his mouth. Letting her go before he succumbed to her will, he began to walk away, leaving behind a confused and sad woman in the wake of his trembling rage.

xx

"Kotoko, are you okay?"

Stretching her arm, she whacked the ball with her tennis racket as it swirled toward the wall, bouncing back to her in a repeated pattern. The person requesting her attention quietly backed away from the fence, not wanting to meet the wrath of Kotoko Aihara. She continued hitting the ball, cruelly subjecting the wall with her unbent frustration. In her vision, she imagined Irie's face plastered against it as a deadly smile took her mouth. She hit the ball with everything she got and watched as it hit the center of his face with precision.

Avoiding hitting the ball back, she let it bounce and rest behind her, rolling toward the fence in silence. She rested her racket near the bench and grabbed her towel. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she noticed from across her territory Irie talking among a group of girls, his back toward her.

With an evil chuckle, she grabbed her racket and bent to grab a ball. Getting out of her terrain, she pushed the gate back and entered his domain. Ignoring the lecture Sudou was giving to her classmates on the benches, she made her way toward Irie before she stopped in a reasonable distance.

Bouncing the ball, she peered up, noticing his attention was still locked on the group of girls. Throwing the ball in the air, she brought her racket to meet it and sent the ball flying toward his direction.

In one second, she burst into a grin. In one second, the ball whizzed past his shoulder. And in one second, her grin vanished as she miscalculated and hit the fence ahead of them. Her classmates (aside from Irie) cried in terror at the ball lying at their feet.

"Who the hell threw that?!"

Before they had the chance to discover the source, Kotoko bolted in a sprint and headed toward the gym, leaving the tennis court early. She never imagined her devious plan would backfire and bite her in the rear. There went her perfect chance of having her sweet revenge from yesterday.

Slipping out of her white shirt and saving it in her duffle bag, she turned to put on her pink blouse when she noticed it missing. Stunned, she raised her head and noticed Irie standing in front of her with his hand clutched around the missing garment. He approached her and slammed a hand against the locker behind her, trapping her against his rigid form and feeling his breath tease her ear.

He had her at a vulnerable position. Saving a bit of her modesty, she covered her lacy bra with her hands.

"Next time," he whispered in her ear, "don't be a coward and face me directly."

He pulled away from her and threw the blouse at her. She closed her eyes, feeling the fabric brush against her skin before it dropped to the ground in a quiet whisper. Kotoko couldn't dare move until he left from her sight and headed out the lockers. To his fortune, no one aside from her was in the lockers—after all, class began fifteen minutes ago. However, to her misfortune, she wished it was packed to save her the trouble from facing Irie's wrath.

Tuesdays were becoming like Mondays and she hated that.

xx

Wednesday began as a simple day. School kept her busy. Work kept her from thinking from the troubles she had. However, in one disastrous sweep, her semi-perfect day crumbled when she came home at night and faced the heavy tension looming in the air. Sitting at his usual spot, Irie was reading his book, trying to finish his assignments.

Trying to be discreetly quiet, she made her way toward her room. She managed to reach her bedroom door when he slammed his book shut, catching her attention. In a few seconds, he appeared behind her, his hand hovered upon his doorknob. She found a sneer making its way across his face and angry eyes greeting her with unfathomable scorn.

"You stomp like an elephant." He opened his bedroom door and shut it behind him.

Gritting her teeth, she dropped her books and bag on the ground and banged his door.

"Repeat that again, idiot!"

Irie pulled his door opened and leaned forward. "You stomp like an elephant!"

Clenching a fist, she was about to insult him in return, but he managed to flick her nose and shut the door in her face before she could come up with a solid comeback. Touching the tip of her nose, she stuck her tongue out and childishly made a face as she returned to her room and prepared to sleep.

xx

Thursday—a week and half since their brief fight occurred, leaving her in tears from his heavy jealously. For one week, they refused to speak, mostly because midterms were highly important than resolving their issues. However, after midterms passed, they began to fall in a pattern of insults and childish behavior, avoiding the resolution to their problems. Picking up the courage to face him directly, she waited for him to return from work and quietly stared at the door that will announce his appearance.

It was nine o'clock when he came home. He looked upon her in silence, dropping his bag on the ground and taking his feet out of his shoes. Putting them neatly to a side next to her pink shoes, he stood straight and stared at her directly.

"We need to talk," she began.

He silently made his way toward the recliner and took a seat.

"I know that we haven't been on the best of terms." She looked at her hands, nervously playing with her fingers. "We made a few mistakes. However, I still need to know."

"Know what?" he impatiently questioned.

"Where do we stand in this relationship?"

He slanted his head to one side and impassively stared into her eyes, rendering her hope for a valid excuse of living with him to dust. Standing up from his seat, he began to unbutton his sleeves and expertly folding them toward his elbows. He headed toward the kitchen and took out a frozen package of fettuccini.

"Irie," she called.

He never gave her his attention.

"Irie, I need to know!" She approached the counter, placing her hands over the marble surface.

Putting the package in the microwave, he grabbed a cup and poured himself a glass of water. He brought the cup to his lips and took a sip.

"We don't have a relationship," he answered at last.

There was flicker of regret flashing through his eyes, but she barely had the chance to see it when he professionally slid back to his emotionless features and greeted her with empty eyes. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she crept closer to him, gathering his cheeks in the palm of her hands to keep his gaze steady on her. She hopelessly clung to the security that he still loved her as she rubbed her thumbs over the line of his cheekbones.

A faint smile touched his lips for a brief moment. He took a hold of her hands, removing them away from his face gently. She imagined in haste that he would destroy her love stricken emotion with a harsh criticism leaving his lips. Instead another splash of surprise was dumped over her when he set her hands on the counter, removing his fingers from her own as the spark that emitted when their skin touched left behind a faint tingle.

He grabbed his cup and set it in the sink, while hearing the ding from the microwave. Taking the package out, he opened it and stirred the contents within before he placed it in the microwave and punched in the appropriate time. The microwave hummed as he forced himself to pull out a bowl and a fork from the cabinets.

She knew she was merely pushing her luck, but dammit she needed to see him react, anything for her to feel that he was still in fact fighting for her love.

"What am I to you?" she asked.

He didn't give a response.

"Am I your crush? A friend? A companion? Or am I just a simple roommate to you?"

"You're nothing to me," he responded. He never gave her his attention.

"Why don't you say that to my face?"

He hesitated to turn, but when he did, the microwave behind him dinged. The food that he placed in was forgotten in a pinch of a moment. His sole concentration was locked in the gaze of her fierce eyes demanding to repeat his last statement.

Slowly, he opened his mouth.

"Why does it matter?"

She lowered her head, the tips of her bangs obscuring her eyes from his view.

"It matters. It just matters." She placed a hand on the counter for support. Any second she felt like falling. "I need to know."

"It shouldn't matter. You don't love me." In a flash, she raised her head, boring hatred toward his direction. Naoki leaned forward and tapped a finger at the middle of her forehead. "Remember?"

He pulled away, retrieving his meal from the microwave and placing it in his bowl. Throwing the empty box in the trash, he slipped past her, brushing his arm against her as he took a seat at their dining table. Turning slowly, she gazed upon him in bewilderment, noticing that he was barely eating, more like he was playing with his food.

Nails digging in her palms, a deep despise toward his lack of response took control of her legs, causing her to stand in front of him. His attention was given to her when she slammed her hands on the table. The fork was laid to rest. The bowl was pushed to a side. He calmly wrung his hands together and got lost in her gaze of fury.

"Then I have every right to be with Kai."

Her voice cracked under the pressure, but her firm comment made a point when his jaw clenched and his eyes became hooded with an emotion that she could not describe. Then it hit her at full blast that the dark pool around his eyes were the signs of anger and jealousy pulled together in one disastrous tune.

"You think he is good for you?"

His question caused her to retreat and stand straight.

"Yes, I do."

He stabbed the fork into his plate and resumed eating his bowl of fettuccini in silence. Although, the silence did not linger as Kotoko scraped the seat across the floor and sat down with her hands laid out in front of her. He glanced at her for a second before his concentration returned to his meal.

"Are you jealous?"

His fork clanked against the bowl. His knuckles were a pale white. He ignored her comment and continued eating without comment.

"You are, aren't you?"

He raised his eyes toward her and still said nothing.

"I'm glad. Maybe you will finally see the chance on how a man should appreciate the woman beside him."

Still no comment.

"What? Too scared to say something to me now, Irie?"

Pushing his seat back, he stood and took his empty dish to the sink. Kotoko followed his every step, a heavy dose of silent rage hummed in her veins. By the time he washed his bowl, he leaned against the counter, stared at the wooden cabinets ahead, and laid his hands behind him, each resting by the side of his hips.

"What do you want me to tell you, Kotoko?"

His voice sounded eerily calm. She did not like it. Not even for a second.

"I want to know. What am I to you?"

"Sure you want to know?"

"Yes," she urged.

He looked at her and gave a faint, self-depreciating smile.

"You're a pest, a bothersome bug that came into my life and ruined it. You don't know when to stay quiet. You cry all the time. And I cannot believe that I see something in you. I must have caught your stupidity."

She broke away from his stare and muttered, "I see."

Standing up from her seat, she walked a few paces to the living room. Then she turned around and moved the tresses of her hair from her eyes.

"I should say something but I can't for some odd reason."

"That's because you never have good comebacks."

"No, that's not it. It's because I don't give a damn." She stabbed her finger against her chest. "You think I'm bothersome." She moved her finger away from her chest and pointed a finger at him briefly. "What about you? I feel like crap when I'm around you. And to tell you the truth, I don't care what you do from this day on."

Kotoko turned her head to a side, digging her teeth into her bottom lip. She was restraining herself from crying in front of him. But dammit it all she couldn't stop when the first tear rolled down her cheek. Dashing into her room, she slammed the door and silently tried to force back the tears from flowing.

Her cellphone was ringing in the background. She found it on top of her dresser where her pink dairy laid. Grabbing her phone, she noticed the call was from work. They were probably calling to see if she was available for tomorrow. Without a care, she took the call. After all, she was available.

xx

Irie knew that there were some things in life that he wasn't supposed to do but he didn't care. He made a lot of mistakes, considering that most think of him as perfect—especially one particular person. That didn't matter at the moment.

What mattered was that he had an important thing to say to Kotoko. She had returned from work and stayed in her room. He didn't know what to do. Walking in seemed like a good idea but he didn't want to cause any more trouble and receive a glare for trespassing. Instead he lingered near the main entrance and waited for the minutes to past.

Five minutes rolled by and the door to her room opened. She walked in the living room barefooted, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and pink top with the words "Girly-Girl" written in white. By the time she noticed him, the expression on her face shifted from curiosity to incredulity. Then her eyes went south and she noticed the suitcases behind him and the backpack slung over his shoulder.

Blinking once, she leaned for support by placing her hands on top of the chair and letting out a long breath of air.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

"Why?"

She rolled her shoulders before she massaged her temple with her forefingers. Afterward her eyes went back to him, taking in his professional impassive stance.

"It's for the best."

She nodded her head and pulled a seat to a side. It was faced toward his direction as she sat down, the weight of his departure surely taking a toll on her.

"For the best," she repeated. Kotoko brought a hand to shield her eyes for a moment. "Where will you be going?"

"Don't worry about it."

She glared at him for his rude response.

"So is this it?"

He shook his head.

"I need to get away for a while. It will do us good. I need some time. Pick the one you like."

Her glare silently intensified. Irie noticed her nails were digging into her kneecaps. She was angry but she was withholding it impressively by keeping herself calm.

"Come up with something original," she challenged.

He obediently obliged. "I need time to know what I want. To understand what I'm doing. To be a better person. A better man. Yes, to be a better man."

"A better man. For me?"

"Yes."

She chuckled for a moment. "You ever think that I might move on?"

"I have."

"I'm not going to wait for you."

"You have too."

She leaned into her seat and crossed her arms. "Why?"

"I have until spring, remember?"

"You still want to win my love after you put me down yesterday?"

"It was a human error. I make a lot of them."

Kotoko looked away and shook her head. "You're making a mistake."

"Probably."

She stood up from her seat and declared, "I won't run back to you."

Irie smiled and picked up his suitcase. Turning away from her, he opened the door and felt the cool chill enter the warm apartment and encase him in a shower of light snow. He took the first step forward and whispered, mostly to himself, "I know."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

It became evidently clear that her whole determination of wanting to be an independent, strong woman not in love with her dashing enemy went down the drain. She should've known Irie would do the impossible to stop her. She tried to forget—well, in her mind, it seemed that she tried hard enough to forget about the man who belittled her. There was something about him that always brought her to look only at him, no one else.

He could be mean. He could be impassive. He could be impossibly irritable. But she could not deny that she would run back to him each time. She would take Irie any day, even if a nice man were to come along and want to treat her like a queen. Still she wouldn't want Mr. Nice, but Mr. Flaw. Mr. Flaw had everything that could mesh with her imperfections with his own.

Even going on a date with Mr. Nice could not deter her mind from thinking about Mr. Flaw. Kai—Mr. Nice as she labeled him—was the man she dreamed of appearing through the door with his charming intellect and beautiful pearly teeth. Irie—Mr. Flaw—had written the number on a yellow sticky note and taped it to the refrigerator door. Appalled by his intention, she called Kai in despite of Irie's behavior.

She would make Irie see how he had made a mistake by giving away the enemy's number. She would make him see how compatible Kai and she were together. Instead, she realized how difficult it was to put on a guise of enjoying the evening. She also realized that Kai wasn't her type.

He was too shy. Never went for the right moment to hold her hand. Not that she wanted to hold his hand anyway. He hardly spoke to her during their lovely meal. Perhaps, it was due to his nervousness. Kotoko really didn't know. In the end, there was no spark. Not even the brush of his hand touching hers brought the butterflies to stir in her belly.

At the end of their so-called date, she offered him her friendship, and he elatedly accepted it. Perhaps, they knew from the beginning that a romantic relationship between them would be slim. Nevertheless, she was happy to have another friend to chat with.

And instead of being wrapped in the arms of a lover, she came home empty-handed with only her black purse clutched to her stomach. If only she could wash away the light makeup off her face and head toward her room in peace. But her roommate—by god, how she _disliked _Irie Naoki at the moment—was a nosy prate. Never knew when to leave, but constantly came at the right moment to pry, her roommate was quite _comical_ with her overused names and beguiling integrity.

Hardworking, straightforward, and graceful—her roommate matched all three descriptions. It had to be sick joke from Irie. The man never had enough of merely teasing her. Instead, he knew exactly how to provoke her by easily bringing the one person she had trouble getting along with.

"You're late. I told you that I won't be waiting for you when dinner is ready. And look, you left a trail of snow at the entrance. Can't you be a bit more considerate, Aihara?"

Irie was a sick cruel person to have left her with Matsumoto Yuuko as a roommate. Worst of all, her sister—which she didn't know until recently—lived down below. How charming to have them together.

"I'll clean it up," she grumbled, leaving her purse on the counter. Her blue booties were left near the entrance as she made her way barefooted to the closet. She took off her black jacket, hanged it and grabbed the broom. She trudged her way toward the entrance and began sweeping up the mess. Matsumoto stood behind her, critically watching that she did not leave a speck of snow and dirt behind.

"You missed a spot. No, not there!" she exclaimed. Pointing a finger toward the rug, she exasperated, "There! Under the rug!"

Picking up the rug and resting it to a side, she swept the mess into the dustpan and cleared the contents into the metallic trash bin. Satisfied at her work, Matsumoto continued to nitpick apart her attire before she concluded that her aroma reeked of sweat. With her back turned, Kotoko took the chance to stick out her tongue in a childish manner.

"Take a shower first while I reheat the food."

Not protesting at her demand, since the mention of food caused her stomach to rumble loudly, she made her way toward her room, while mumbling under her breath 'bossy' and 'jerk'. She pulled out her fresh clean pajamas and undergarments before grabbing her blue towel. Heading toward the bathroom, she stripped from her clothes and relaxed under the showerhead as the first droplets of warm water hit her tense skin.

The steam floated into the air and clouded the mirror. She didn't know how long she stood under the water heat. But noticing the wrinkling skin creased underneath her toes, she realized that she busily scrubbed and rinsed away the dirt off her skin in a thirty-minute time. And if that wasn't a clue that she prolonged her time in the shower then the pounding on the door was definite proof that she extended her time.

"Aihara! Hurry up! Your food is going to get cold again!"

Withholding a groan of not wanting to budge from her relaxing state, she turned off the water and forced herself to head into the cool air. Goosebumps rose on her skin rapidly. She shivered and grabbed a towel and hurriedly dried herself off.

Dressed in her winter pajamas, she made her way toward the kitchen and gleefully sat on the dining chair.

"I don't understand how you can eat if you already ate at the restaurant with your date," Matsumoto said from across the oval table. She took a sip of her hot chocolate and laid it to rest afterwards.

"My date was staring at me. I felt uncomfortable to eat," Kotoko shared with her. She slurped the noodles into her mouth and digested it. Matsumoto ignored the juice dripping from her lips and she definitely chose to ignore that Kotoko used the back of her hand to wipe the juice off her chin. The napkin she laid out for her rested in front of her bowl. Aihara, oblivious to the napkin's existence, continued to eat rapidly.

Matsumoto pushed the napkin closer to her bowl. Thankfully, the young woman noticed and dabbed her face with it.

"Well, as much as I like to hear about your wonderful date, I'm heading to bed," Matsumoto announced. She pushed her seat back and grabbed her cup of chocolate and dumped it in the sink. Ambling toward her room after rinsing her dish, Kotoko whirled her head around and tried to stop her. Instead, the door came to a close.

No matter. That didn't stop Kotoko from grabbing her bowl of noodles and straddle the opportunity to enter her prestigious room of violet and white. Classy, with a few expensive trinkets displayed on top of her wooden, white dresser, Matsumoto certainly lived the princess life. Compared to her overzealous pinkish décor, her roommate screamed of sophistication and class unlike her simple-mind set of using only one prime color.

Still it didn't make her frown and take a step out; on the contrary, Kotoko could care less of the room's design. Each individual had their own established design to reflect their personalities. Matsumoto was no different. Violet and white were the perfect combination to reflect her prudish personality.

Taking the available seat, which happened to be her full-size bed, Kotoko sat down gracefully as she could with the bowl of noodles in her hands. The intense glare she received and the little threats made toward her to leave did not stop her from taking a bundle of noodles in her mouth and mockingly eat right in front of Matsumoto. The glare never left her immaculate features. She spit in the sink and continue brushing her teeth.

Not paying heed to her stern expression reflected in the mirror, Kotoko took another bundle of noodles into her mouth and chewed. By the time Matsumoto rinsed her mouth and washed her face, Kotoko was done with her bowl of noodles and laid the empty dish on her lap.

The light of the bathroom was flicked off. The room grew dimmed as the lamp resting on top of the nightstand provided little light. Matsumoto continued to glare and stood at the side of her bed, arms crossed. Smiling wide, Kotoko patted the empty spot next to her. Her roommate found the invitation unacceptable. But that didn't prevent her from taking the available spot and pulling the covers close to her chest. Resting on her side, she pretended to sleep—even though, Aihara prattled on and on about her date.

A curse left her pretty lips. Kotoko found it amusing. Her roommate hardly cursed. These past few days were becoming quite interesting as her mouth spitted out vulgar words that were commonly compatible to Naoki. _Shit _was quite popular between the two. Even their hardened expressions with their lips held in a tight line, and brows inclining together to contemplate narrow eyes, were a common feature directed toward the redhead.

"Get to the point. What do you want?"

"I don't know what you mean, Matsumoto." Kotoko feigned astonishment.

"You know what I mean, Aihara." She sat up in bed and frowned at her. "Here—let me give you a hint, and in return, you let me sleep."

Kotoko pondered on the thought, tapping her lips with an index finger. She '_hmm'_ as she thought, breaking the small amount of patience the raven-haired female could considerably give her. Hearing the annoying sound vibrating against her throat as a _hmm _in a thirty-second count proved to be her last straw.

"Stop that!" She frightened Kotoko with her shout as she recoiled in fear, knocking the empty dish to the ground. "How about I make up your mind for you?" she offered.

Throwing the covers off her slim waist, she raced toward Kotoko and dragged the redhead by the arm, leading her toward the exit. It became a tussle between the two. Matsumoto would pull and Kotoko would grab whatever object she could touch to prevent her from taking her out. In the process of her grabbing, she managed to knock down the lamp and pulled the covers off the bed. Even the rug was left in disarray.

In the end, Matsumoto managed to take her out by dragging her by the legs. Her skin squeaked against the collision of floor meeting flesh. Her pink blouse rode upward, revealing a lean stomach. Taking her to the living room, she dumped her near the couch and ran toward her room.

Kotoko didn't know when to give up, however. Springing to her feet, she raced toward her roommate in time to stop the door from closing. Matsumoto pushed to close the little space left for her door to click, but Kotoko wouldn't let her. She began to push the opposite direction as the tussle escalated between who will manage to close—or open in Kotoko's case—the door.

With her back against the door, hands and legs spread apart, Matsumoto panted and moistened her lips.

"I'll give you his number if you stop pushing!" she offered.

As much as the offer sounded tempting, since apparently he changed his number a week after he left, Kotoko denied the chance. She continued to push the door. "Not good enough! I want his address!"

"Why?" Matsumoto pushed the door back. "Isn't this what you wanted? A chance at freedom to show Irie how independent you can be?"

"He left me, remember? I didn't want him to leave," she said from behind the door. "He left to be a better person! A better man! But, really, he can never be that!"

"So why look for him! I thought he meant nothing to you!" She was beginning to slip. Damn white socks!

"I need to talk to him! That's all you need to know!" Her legs were beginning to throb. Kotoko didn't know how much longer she can continue pushing the door when her feet were slipping.

"Just admit it, Aihara! You love him! And this whole independency thing was never going to work because you can never change to what you want to be!"

With her last effort, she pushed the door to a close and landed on her rear. She couldn't help but smile at her small accomplishment. Quickly springing to her feet, she locked it before Kotoko could dare open it. However, she knew something was entirely wrong the moment she heard silence on the other side.

"Aihara?" The redhead didn't respond. "Aihara, I'm not going to open my door so you better respond." There was still no response. "Hey! I'm serious! You better respond or… I'll ignore you!" Still no response. "Fine!" She threw her hands in the air. "I don't care! I'm heading to bed!"

She turned away from the door and noticed the mess expecting her. Putting the rug in place, and scowling at the dirty dish but laying it on top of the dresser, she tidied up her room and got into the covers. Aihara still did not speak during the duration of her cleanup. The chance of hurting her with a petty insult was slim, but her silence contributed to quite the opposite effect.

She kept glancing toward the door, half-expecting for the rush of tears to arrive in loud sobs. Yet the heavy rang of silence kept her from settling comfortably in bed and bemoan at the probability of letting Aihara in. Cursing softly under her breath, she pulled the covers off her form and tiptoed her way toward the door. Pressing an ear against it, she heard nothing from the other side. She pulled away, unlocked the door and turned the knob, slowly. The door creaked for a moment before the sound frittered into silence as well.

"Aihara?" she called as she continued to pull the door open. What greeted her in the small hallway was the vacant spot of where the young woman used to be. She silently made her way toward the kitchen.

"Boo!" Popping out from a side, with her hands laid out in front of her, fingers curved, Kotoko caused Matsumoto to scream. The effect of her face taken in terror, and arms secured to her chest as a protective barrier of some sort, made Kotoko laugh. Matsumoto smacked her in the arm, eliciting a "ouch!" from the redhead's lips.

"Here I thought I managed to make you cry." She scowled and crossed her arms. "My mistake of investigating why you grew quiet."

Aihara simply beamed. "That's sweet. You actually care for me."

"Please." She stretched the _e_ dramatically. "Don't confuse my kindness with care. I don't care what you do. I just want to sleep." And to emphasize her point, she turned on her heel and headed toward the door. She didn't get far when Aihara called her name, halting her steps.

"I did try," slipped out of her mouth. She turned and stared at the redhead with a curious expression.

"I did try," Kotoko repeated. "More than you think. I wanted to be independent. Golly, I wanted to show to Irie that he made a mistake by confusing me as a bimbo girl. Because as you can see, I'm no idiot." She smiled. "I'm determined, I'm not selfish, and I have a big heart."

Her smile continued to bloom even as she shook her head. "I really did try to forget about him. I kept telling myself that I didn't love him but I knew that deep down I did love him. And it hurts because I can never escape from him. I can never escape because he is constantly intervening. And now that I have this chance to slip away from his grasp, I realized that I can't. I'm scared of losing him."

She bit back the tears. "I can't lose him. Because if I do lose him, I succeed. And succeeding should be taken with joy but not me. I don't want to succeed. I just want him to say, 'I'm sorry for all those things I said about you and I acknowledge you as my ideal partner."

"You are his ideal match," Matsumoto clarified.

Kotoko scowled. "I'm not." She wiped the few tears that escaped from her eyes. "You are."

She ignored the last comment. "I told you I don't have his heart."

Kotoko stayed silent on the thought, her eyes staring past her shoulder in a trance.

"You are putting yourself down." Matsumoto laid a hand on her hip. "Stop. You just miss him. It's natural to miss someone you are so attached to."

Kotoko shook her head, eyes wide and brows creasing together. "No," she affirmed. "I'm not putting myself down. I'm just stating the simple fact."

It was Matsumoto's turn to shake her head, arms now resting at her sides. "Like I said, you miss him. You're depressed because of how the situation went."

"Depressed—maybe. But actually I'm just being a bimbo girl in the end. I should've not done this. I should've kept going with that positive outlook that one day Irie will look at me and say, 'I love you.' I should've never had change."

Stunned at her response, she countered, "But you did so much. You become a studious girl, determined to finish whatever major you want to be."

"I changed in the academic field. Not in life."

Matsumoto sighed.

"You're right." Kotoko crossed her arms. "I miss him. But I still want to talk to him. Just give me his number instead."

Matsumoto knew that Kotoko might do something stupid if she gave up his address. But she couldn't refuse the look in her eye of desperation of wanting to see the love of her life once more.

Exhaling a breath, she calmly said, "You don't need his number."

Curious, Kotoko locked eyes with her.

"He lives below—with my sister."

The shocking revelation shattered Kotoko's world. Gasping at the bombshell, she turned her eyes toward the door and pondered on what action to execute. In the end, she made up her mind and grabbed her jacket, placed her shoes on and headed toward the main door.

Matsumoto called out, "Wait, Aihara."

She stopped from leaving the apartment but did not turn to face her.

"What are you going to do when you see him?"

Kotoko broke into a smile and turned half-way. "What I do best. Run back to him each time."

With that said, she headed into the cold air and never turned back to catch the look of disappointment covering Matsumoto's expression.

xx

The Christmas tree stood at the corner of the room with its blue lights contrasting against the artificial white branches. Irie admire the tree from afar, taking in the silver ball ornaments that were separate from each other. The tiniest of smiles touched his lips when he looked upon the golden star resting on top of the tree—the only ornament that contrasted heavily against the other colors.

Sitting on the ground, back resting against the wall, he had a leg propped up with his elbow resting upon his knee. He bore his gray, black-stripped pajama pants and long-sleeve gray shirt. It was a present from his mother when he visited their home a week before Christmas. He had merely informed her that he wouldn't be attending Christmas. He was booked with work; didn't have time for family gatherings.

She solemnly took the news with a faint smile. At least, Kotoko would come, she had said. He bitterly smiled at the mention of her name and restrained from commenting further.

Now, as the clock signaled that it was eleven o'clock at night, he merely resorted into silence. The ground around the Christmas tree was bare. No present was in sight. He had a few that needed to be delivered. It was resting in the corner of his room, waiting to be addressed to their owner.

He kept telling himself that he needed to give them personally to the owner; however, he couldn't bring himself to visit the one person he bought gifts for. A sigh left his lips. He was wasting his time hiding away when he had a love to claim.

A bitter laugh escaped from his throat, interrupting the heavy silence. Becoming a better man, he thought, was a futile attempt. He should've never have read her diary in the first place. His curiosity was what started all this mess.

It was the day he decided to leave when he ventured in her room. Gone from the apartment, he was mildly aware that Kotoko was at work. Fridays were her usual days off. It seemed she decided to take the chance and escape from him. He was about to leave the room when he noticed, resting innocently on her dresser, her diary.

It reminded him of the days she would stay up at night and write for hours. Oblivious to his existence, she would leave the door slightly ajar. He would examine her, taking in her hunched form and noticing that her red-hair would be tied in a braid; sometimes it would be loose, hanging freely around her shoulders; other times it would be held in a band to hold up her ponytail. She would sit on the ground, scribbling away on top of a table. It always brought him to be curious on what she would write.

He remembered once, when he was a child, that he plucked a book on top of his parent's nightstand. It was coated pink—like Kotoko's dairy—and had a few hearts pinned to the front. Curious, he was about to open the book when his mother swiped it from his hands, proclaiming that it was her secret treasure that he could not touch.

"Why?" he remembered asking.

"There are some secrets that I like to hide from others. Sometimes they are happy memories, sometimes they are not. All in all, those secrets are being kept in this book—my dairy."

"Why are you hiding secrets? Don't you want to share them?" he asked after.

His mother broke into a soft smile. "There are some things that you just don't want to share with others."

His mother was correct about withholding information that others won't hear. But he was stubborn and wouldn't let the thought rest into silence. Alone, he took the chance and read Kotoko's dairy a third time in a few years that past. The first one had happened on pure accident. He put it down once he read the first two pages of her innocent love towards him.

The second was a week after their first kiss. He had pondered on what she had written about that night. Fortunately, she had written four pages describing the misery and longing for a second encounter to share another kiss. He didn't read more after that.

It was stupid of him to peek into her life without her knowing. However, he couldn't resist the temptation of unraveling the secret that she poured in her diary. No doubt his mother's warning should've been taken more seriously, but dammit it all, he had to know what was going on in Kotoko's head.

When he flipped through the pages, he had found what he was he looking for when he saw the word _Devil_ above his name. He had scoffed at the name. No doubt the rest of what she had written would be worse than the ugly name he deserved and that alone should've prevented him from reading into her sacred book but he persist.

In it she had written her determination to forget about him. A few pages, he remembered, were stained with tears. Wrinkled, with the black led smeared on a few sentences, he never knew that she cried when she wrote—then again, it wasn't surprising. She had that awful—yet enticing—habit to burst into tears.

Aside from her tendency, her dairy held many descriptions that allured him to have a small burning flame of hatred directed toward her. The one label that she overly described him was perfect. He was seen as a perfectionist. Not a mortal being with flaws, but a perfectionist.

He had lost his temper the moment he read that word, chuckling at her stupidity of thinking that he was perfect (but he did not see that she mockingly overused the word as a joke). Like the rest, he had his flaws. He rarely admitted it to anyone.

Like a child he was set on a pedestal, never did wrong, and always pleased his parents. It was what was expected from him: a perfect child always achieving for the best. In truth, he was sick of it. Not that he would admit it out loud. Somehow he continued on, and the thought of pleasing his parents became overwhelming for him to bear. For in essence, what was his purpose in the end?

The thought of running his father's business was unsatisfying. Irie wanted more; demanded more. Yet, he didn't know what he wanted. A part of him accepted that running his father's business wasn't that bad. However, deep down, he was repulsed by the thought, but he still continued to put on a bit of a smile and accept his role in life.

That was until Kotoko came into his life and pictured him as a doctor. He would be saving the lives of many including that of a little boy dear to him and to his brother. Of course, the medical field would be challenging and he accepted that. But as he pondered over the thought, he concluded that a night worth of sleep given up for a good profession would be alright with him.

If Kotoko never came into his life, he would've probably been working behind a desk, reading over reports on how the toy company was faring. His life would've ended entirely different. Perhaps, he would've been married to a woman ideal such as him. In his mind, he pictured Matsumoto being the ideal match. It would've been a perfect marriage too. Small chatter, a few smiles here and there, and one beautiful child.

That would be his life. Ordinary. Perfect. No hassle. It would be a quiet life until death.

Irie—although, he hated to admit it—was glad that his life changed when Kotoko came to his home the day of the small earthquake. Still the mere fact that she had written that he was perfect bothered him to the end.

Laying the book back, since the rest of her dairy was unimportant, he had decided he would change into that _perfect boyfriend _as she had elaborately put it in her dairy. So, he had tried waking her up sweetly. Instead he had grown mad when he noticed in his reflection that he bore a light bruise on the tip of his nose. He could see why makeup came in handy for women.

He had tried to hold her hand. It didn't work. He felt awkward being someone that he wasn't.

The next day didn't fare any better. Kotoko—being dumb—had decided to hit him with a tennis ball. He had lost his temper when he had noticed her dashing toward the gym. He had tried to apologize by saying something sweet the next day. Instead he had called her an elephant.

As much as he proclaimed his love toward her, he couldn't change to what she had written him to be. A dashing prince sweeping her off her feet—that wasn't him. Never will he do something so cliché as that.

He really did try to change even before their silly argument. The birthday gifts, the hugs, the kisses…he couldn't keep that up as long as he tried. Kotoko meant everything to him, but having a relationship was proving to be quite difficult. Still if there was one thing that Irie loved was a challenge and he wanted so desperately for Kotoko to admit that she needed him as much as he needed her.

Irie rubbed his face in tiredness. Someone banged on the door. He glanced at the clock. 11:30 greeted his eye. Groaning, he ambled toward the entrance, unbarred the door, and felt the cool air touch his face.

And in one second, the cool air was replaced with welcoming warmth. He barely had time to blink his eyes when his mouth was invaded by another pair of lips. The brush of cold fingers rested behind the back of his neck. He shuddered at the coolness of their flesh.

Looking at the intruder that clutched his body tight, he melted into their embrace when he realized that he was being kissed by the woman he loved. And he didn't know how it happened but all the troubles that he had disappeared in a second.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: ** Going to go back and edit a few things. Don't expect a update soon. Next chapter will be long.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

Irie wandered down Main and turned west on 44th Street. A couple more blocks before the new bistro restaurant named _Arbor _would greet his eye with an overcrowded public and waiters bowing their head, pulling the door open for their admittance. He turned his head left and right and crossed the street along with the others.

Walking calmly toward his destination, he tuned out the blustering street, the blaring of horns, and men arguing through their cell phones. The everyday jubilance of the city. Crowded, loud, and sometimes rude exchanges were expected. It was the city that he grew up in. A city that he never paid much attention to. Now as he walked toward his destination he realized how much he missed the ranch of his relatives.

He thought of taking Kotoko to the second place he grew up in. But he knew that she wouldn't survive out in the country side. She would most likely pull out her hair at the many things that were required for her to do: washing clothes by hand, making homemade meals, plucking the feathers out of chickens…

Maybe he should teach her how to cook first before he even thought of taking her. That sounded like a good idea. But first he needed to make Kotoko happy before anything else.

Three weeks of dating, pushing aside whatever issues that needed to be resolved, he thought things would finally settle down. He had admitted his mistakes to her; said he would try to change and appreciate her a bit more and she had smiled at his efforts, saying that she too will try not to shadow his every move.

Their relationship started off slow. Sometimes she would visit him; sometimes he would visit her. Both decided not to move back as original roommates. Time was essential for both of them. Eventually, when everything is back to normal, they would consider the option, but not now. It was too early.

But he noticed as the weeks passed how her eyes were illuminated with false cheerfulness. She would put on a show, sometimes with sincerity, but mostly out of hollowness. He couldn't understand what could be holding her back from enjoying the relationship that they had.

He had asked her once, "What's wrong?" and she had replied, "Nothing. Just accepting a few things."

"Like what?"

She had smiled. "It's personal." And he never brought it up again.

However, that did not stop him from being plagued with concern toward Kotoko's behavior. He may not show how deeply worried that he was but deep down he was screaming bitterly. If there is one person who could tell him about Kotoko's behavior that would be Matsumoto—she shared the apartment with her; she should know.

He stopped, along with some others, waiting for the flow of traffic to come to a stop and allow him to pass toward the next street. The bistro restaurant was sitting on the corner. At first glance, it appeared simple with its red lettering of the restaurant's name and bricked-wall design. But as he drew near he noticed that it was far from simple. It held a level of elegance with its arch windows, oval black tables and mahogany dining chairs with padded seats.

He found Matsumoto sitting near the corner of a window, sipping from a white china cup. Her black military jacket hanged over the top of her seat. She appeared wearing a black bodice dress with a crossover neckline, flowing impeccably around her knees. Her eyes met his and a smile blossomed on her red lips. She stood on her red heels and bowed her head. He greeted the same way.

"Why don't you take a seat?" she offered. He pleasantly obliged.

He took off his jacket afterwards, resting it on top of his seat and pulled up the sleeves of his button-up shirt. The warm setting of the restaurant was comfortable than the cool breeze from outside. He felt more relaxed when he ordered a cup of tea and sipped the enriching liquid that warmed his belly.

Matsumoto continued to smile and patiently waited for his attention to rest on her. He laid the cup down, but left a finger hooked around the loop of the cup.

"How have you been?" he began. She answered with a crisp scoff.

"Surviving. And yourself?"

He stayed silent for a moment before he chose, "Managing, but happy."

"I see you're back to normal." She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table.

He partially gave a smile. "Are you referring to my gushy state? It's my newest habit. You should try it with Sudou." He raised his cup of tea and took another sip.

Matsumoto scowled. "I should hit you for that comment. But I'll let it slide this time."

Irie laughed for a brief moment. "By the way…" His voice trembled with amusement. "…I apparently am not meant for the role of being sweet."

She raised a brow at that comment. "You don't say."

"Kinnosuke, one of Kotoko's friends, was quite vocal about it."

He rested his hands on his lap and recollected the memory of Kotoko telling Kinnosuke that she was dating Irie. He grew silent for a moment before he burst into tears, begging Kotoko to reconsider. But she did not budge to his request not even when he shouted that Irie will never be considerably sweet such as him.

After bursting into tears, and shouting his name into oblivion, Kinnosuke refused to talk to either of them for a week. The only way Irie managed to get the man to speak to them was by cornering him at the restaurant where Shigeo worked. If it wasn't for Kotoko, he would have never even consider approaching him but she was devastated and wanted to patch up her friendship with the future chef.

Although their relationship was strained, Kinnosuke managed to return to his normal-self. Still the man could not resist of leaving small threats if Irie dared hurt Kotoko in any way. He admired the man for protecting the woman he loved and assured him that he was trying his best.

He turned his gaze toward the window, watching a few passerby's' take a glance at the restaurant before deciding not to enter.

"How is Kotoko?" She steered the conversation toward the direction he wanted to head in the first place. He still continued to look out the window, taking in a designer's store across the street, and a few other clothing stores, before he noticed a McDonald's three store buildings down.

"Well, and in love," he answered. He tore his eyes away from Fashion Street and looked at her. "But you don't want to hear that. You want to know if Kotoko is still putting on a fake smile." He leaned into his seat as much as he could. "She is."

Matsumoto did not appear shocked at the news. It seemed that he was right all along—she does know something about Kotoko's behavior.

"So you've noticed," she said.

"It's hard not to."

"She feels like a failure." Matsumoto went straight to the point. She never delayed with giving him answers. That is why he got along with her so well.

"Why?" he questioned. "She accomplished a lot." And it was true. Kotoko did a lot of achievements in the months that past. But his girlfriend was still not happy—what could possibly be putting her down?

"I said the same thing but the girl doesn't see it. She won't see it until you tell her what she wants to hear." She paused for a moment before she cocked her head slightly to a side and calmly said, "You do know what she wants to hear, right?"

Irie knew exactly what must be said. But would it make a difference—he didn't know. Perhaps, he should try a different approach.

"I know what I have to do."

She took his answer with a soft nod and did not push him to explain.

"Can you really handle this?"

He turned his attention toward the window. "I never fail before. Why should I start now, Matsumoto?"

Matsumoto grabbed the cup of tea in her hand and stared into the liquid. She coldly stated, "Don't be arrogant. This is her feelings we are talking about."

Irie broke into a soft smile. "I'm surprised that you care so much about her."

"Hmm… Don't count on seeing it often." With that said she brought her cup to her lips and took a long sip.

xx

Irie returned to his apartment a little after five. The sun was descending, leaving behind an orange-reddish hue. The first night star glowed brightly. He picked up his pace and unlocked the door. The cold weather was unbearable. He needed heat.

Opening the door, he was welcomed to a chilly apartment. His roommate was nowhere in sight. Closing the door, he walked a few paces, switched on the heater before he turned on the kitchen light. It illuminated the conjoining living room, allowing him to see a sticky note placed on the black rectangular table.

He inched toward the note and bended over to retrieve it. Written in neat writing, his roommate wrote: _Will be gone for a week. Gone to a concert with friends. Left a check for you. It's for the rent._

He crumpled up the note and saw that she had placed the check on top of the kitchen counter. She must've been in a hurry. Glad of her consideration nonetheless, he looked at the amount of her pay and rested it back on the table. He took of his jacket afterward and placed it on top of a bar stool. Taking out his wallet next, he put the check inside and saved it in his back pocket. That way he would not forget—not that he would forget anyway.

There was a knock on the door. He knew who it was. It seemed Kotoko received his text after all. After an hour of waiting for her response, he imagined that she was working and could not come to her phone. But it seemed his childish girlfriend simply ignored his text and was busy with whatever she found important. Questioning her was out of the picture in the end. He had no time for arguing when he had something important to tell her.

There was a second knock on the door. Opening the door for her, he smiled softly and allowed her in. She kicked her feet against the mat outside, leaving behind any dirt or snow that she must've stepped on. Entering the warm atmosphere, he closed the door behind her.

She took of her pink jacket and laid it on top of his. Taking off her black boots, she was left in gray, blue-polka socks. She looked cozy in her black, tight jeans, and white long-sleeved shirt. Wearing a gray knitted beret, she had her red locks in curls. The woman in front of him was no doubt beautiful.

Kotoko perked up a smile, and nervously waited for a greeting. With his eyes examining her from head-to-toe, she forcibly coughed in a balled hand, gaining his attention immediately.

"What were you doing earlier?" he asked.

"I was cleaning the apartment."

She headed toward the living room and took a seat on the couch. Heaving a sigh, she threw herself back and rested awkwardly on the couch. He took a seat on the ground, stretching his long legs. Kotoko plopped on the ground next to him as well, pushing the table forward to give her enough space for her legs to stretch.

"Matsumoto hates it when I leave a mess."

Irie chuckled. "She hates a sloppy mess. I hoped you learned from her."

She shook her head, smiling. "No. She is going to get mad when she sees the dirty dishes. I just got lazy in the end, I guess."

With a leg raised up, he placed a hand on top of his knee and stared emptily across. She took notice of his daze and flashed a hand in front of his face. Gaining his attention, he noticed that her smile never left her face. It brought him to smile as well. Her smile reeked of sincerity, not of lies that she forced herself to act.

Turning her head away, he saw that her cheeks were colored in pink. She nibbled on her bottom lip before she said, "Where have you been, Irie? I thought today was your day off."

"I've been out."

"Where did you go?" she questioned.

"I went to a restaurant with Matsumoto."

She nodded and took the answer silently. He cleared whatever jealousy that she had with a simple clarification.

"She wanted to hang out for a bit. She said she hardly has time for anyone these days."

"She's a busy girl."

He agreed to her statement. He moved forward and placed a hand on hers. Startled, she looked at his hand, confused on the sudden gesture, as she slowly moved her eyes toward his cold expression. He felt the muscles in his jaw slacken when he gave a soft smile. She simply lowered eyes and continued stare at his hand on top of hers.

"I want what's best for you," he confessed. "That's why, Kotoko, I'm willing to do whatever it takes for you to be happy." He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. "I think you're smart. I think you're amazing in your special way. I'm sorry for all those insults. I don't like admitting my feelings all the time, but do know that I'll do anything for you."

"Anything?" she echoed.

"Anything," he repeated.

"Now that you have me, I guess, it doesn't matter what will happen when spring comes." He put on a secretive smile that she inclined to asked, "What will happen when spring comes then?"

"You'll see. This relationship was meant to last forever," he hinted.

There was a heavy worry on her expression. She instantly shook her head and grasped his hand, tightly.

"What is that you want, Kotoko?"

Looking at him with that love he adored, she cupped his cheek, softly with her free hand.

"Let's make some good memories, Irie."

"Is that all?" He leaned into her touch, basking into her warmth.

"Yes, let's make good memories. We need those."

He closed his eyes and allowed her voice to freely express on what she'd in mind for the rest of the day.

She then said, "Do you love me, Irie?"

He opened his eyes and stared into her peaceful expression. "Yes."

"How much?"

"It's hard to explain, but I love you, a lot. I will continue to love you even when I grow old."

Kotoko leaned in and touched her forehead with his. "I love you too. Don't forget that."

She seemed so in love, so smitten with him that he ignored all the signs, the hidden speeches that she was secretly giving to him. That's why he never thought that Kotoko would disappear from his life in a matter of days, permanently.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes: **This chapter is—or was—divided into three parts—each was given a chapter instead. Originally, it would've been 18 pages long. I cut it short since flashbacks play a major role, and will play a major role in the next chapter.

**Important**—I revised/edited chapter one through chapter five—probably the only chapters I cared about. Yuuki now plays a slightly bigger role in this story. The rest—chapter six to thirteen—will stay as it is.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

If Kotoko had a chance to return back in time to the day she gave her letter to Irie, she would have never written the letter in the first place and she would have never glance his way. Speaking to him would be out of the question—until she was prepared to meet him face-to-face, but not as the determined, crying, love-seeking, and bubbly girl that carved his attention. She would've met him as an independent, striving woman capable achieving the impossibilities.

Time travel, as much as she ponder on the different scenarios of her first meeting with Irie, was not possible. Everyone in their lives must have pondered about the possibilities about changing a few things in the past. She was no different from the rest.

She dreamt about changing a certain event to her liking; heck, she mostly dreamt about becoming a strong woman with high esteem. Then, she realized with a sickening slap to the face, that her problem was never about Irie's cold character. The problem was her.

She was not happy with herself.

Even now, as the cab moved closer to her destination, she couldn't help but cringe at the sight of her reflection through the rearview mirror. No, she was definitely not happy.

Two boys stood on the sidewalk, kicking a beach ball toward each other. Kotoko looked back and watched as their mother, who was dressed in her swimwear, called the children to their car. That image alone joggled her memories to remember that September afternoon at the beach.

How she remembered the ocean waves crashing and lapsing around her feet. The jogger with his dog came to mind, running across the sand. The old couple, holding hands, smiled at each other, the creases around their mouths spread toward their cheeks.

Leaning into her seat, and facing the sun, she closed her eyes and saw red behind her eyelids.

Yes, she remembered that day quite well. The color red—it reminded her of blood, the very blood that came squirting from Matsumoto's nose. Then the color changed into a deep crimson that resonated into a slap, flesh meeting flesh, and leaving behind a red hand print across her pale skin.

From a joyous day to a disaster, Kotoko remembered wanting so much to escape from her feelings for Irie. But no matter how much she tried, even as she ran into the night on that same day, her feelings for him were still there, waiting for her like always.

But she wasn't alone that night.

The taxicab moved forward but her mind pulled her back—back into those memories that helped her each step of the way to become that strong woman she longed to be, but can never be.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes: **This is the flashback scene that I wanted to give it its own chapter. So, this flashback covers to chapter five to chapter twelve, and what happened with Kotoko and someone...

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

Kotoko moved her feet toward the lamppost slowly. The hour—she didn't know. It could be ten o'clock; maybe even eleven. The sky was dark, caught in a torrent of stars. It was a heavy sign that she should turn around and go home, back into her comforting bed that smelled of flowers, like the ones found in the field, only sweeter.

The light bulb from the lamppost flickered for a moment before it settled over her head. Light covered the dark corner of where she stood. It helped lessen her fear. The darkness scared her as a little girl; it scared even more as she traveled alone as an adult.

The pain at her side pulsed. No matter how much she tried to relax the muscle, it pained her to take a deep breath. Each step toward the lamppost seemed to be her last. She was out of breath, trying in vain to find shelter under the light. But, alas, she made it, even if she had to stop every once in a while.

Now, as she stood there, under the lamppost, she took the moment to catch her breath. Outside, she noticed with dull eyes, the world looked cold. Down the street, torn papers spiraled into the air; the gritty dust joined its fluttering dance as the wind willed it. A piece of paper crossed her path and glued itself to the edge of the sidewalk, flapping and scratching against pavement when the wind riled up every few seconds.

She turned away from the paper as it flew to the next block. Feeling better from her run, she headed back to Irie household. She really wished she'd a home of her own. It would save her the humiliation of facing Irie. Staring at the ground, she focused on her shoes taking each step forward, unknowing that someone approached in front of her.

"Why do you keep going back to Irie?" His voice alerted her of his existence.

Kotoko picked up her head, looking away from the sidewalk to see Yuuki standing not too far from her. Confusion rattled her nerves and left her surprised. How long was Yuuki following her and why?

Kotoko spoke, almost stuttering her words, "What—what are you doing here?"

He looked down the street. A silver car drove by and rolled to a stop. It turned to the left and disappeared into the dark. He returned his gaze back toward her.

"I followed you."

"Why?" She then asked when the silence invaded a moment to hide her surprise.

"I saw you run. Mother doesn't know. I told her that I'll be across the street with a friend, but I followed you instead."

"Why?"

He ignored her question and instead asked, "Why were you running?"

"Why were you following me?" she persisted. In fact, she demanded to know and hoped it had nothing to do with Irie.

He lowered his eyes, hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. Kicking the ground lightly, as if a speck of dust went by, he grumbled under his breath. She was unable to hear the words he was puttering.

The lamppost flickered, the sound of electricity circuited in small sparks. She saw the darkness creep closer to them as if it was testing the waters to approach two people lost in their own thoughts. She felt it approach closer, though it was her mind playing tricks, and felt a tendril wrap around her neck, black against pale white.

It was not the darkness that suffocated her. It was her fear of returning home and finding Irie glowering, still angry over today's incident. She couldn't deal with his anger. It tarnished his pretty face with creases and a frown. What she would give to see him smile for once.

"Why do you run back to him?" he asked once more. The child's curiosity will only grow if she continued to ignore the question. She drew in a breath and pulled away from her thoughts.

"I have feelings for him, that's why," she confessed. He knew, of course, about her feelings. He took a hand out of his pocket and pushed a strand of hair away from his face.

"Yeah, I already know that."

She stomped her foot and balled her fist. "Then why did you ask!"

He chuckled. "I just wanted to hear you say it so I can laugh at you."

She brought her balled fist to her face and said, "Why, you little—"

"You can always forget about him," he cut her off through mid-sentence. She met his serious eyes, shaded with an indistinguishable haze that she could not make out. Calm and collected, he did not seem eager to return home when he sat near the sidewalk. She followed his lead and sat right next to him.

"It's not that easy to do when I live at the same house he was raised in."

"But that's the perfect way to get him back. You can learn all his secrets," he said.

Surprised, she looked at him.

Bored with the conversation, he looked at the night sky. The stars blinked and showered him with an idea to pass the time. He raised his hand and said, mostly to himself, "There is Orion's Belt."

She followed his finger and found nothing in the stars. Vast and numerous, she imagined a box to where he pointed, but she could not see Orion's Belt as well as he.

"So get back at him," he returned to the conversation. He held her attention with upmost concentration. "That should be easy for you. You have Mother."

Confirming her doubts, she rested her chin on her kneecaps. She wrapped her arms around her legs and shielded herself from Yuuki's eyes. No matter what, he was still Irie's brother. If he caught her crying, he would mostly likely laugh at her.

But to be sure of what he was implying, she asked, "What are you saying?"

He took on a frown and stared at her back, her face hidden away from his view.

"I hate repeating myself." He paused and mumbled, "Idiot."

She snapped her attention to him and growled. "I heard that! Besides…" Her tone carried a lighter tone. "…he is your brother. You shouldn't say that."

"I know that. I just…" He held his thought for a moment. "I have my reasons."

"What type of reasons?"

He looked at his whites shoes; brown stained the front of the tip. He clicked them together, making a small sound that resembled a thump.

"I just have my reason to do what I please."

Kotoko stretched out her legs and laid her hands on her lap. "But you worship him."

Laughter. Sweet laughter enriched her ears with his youth.

"Worship—no, that's not the proper word. Respect is more like it." Tears were in his eyes. He wiped them away and chuckled a bit more. Then the silence came and invaded their bubble of space, leaving each in their own thoughts.

Down the street, lampposts rested, illuminating the night with a glow. High-walled fences, some made of brass bricks and wedges, sheltered each home with privacy from the neighbor next door. All this Kotoko saw from where she sat, but with a blink of an eye, her focus strained away from the street she lived in, albeit a couple years, and focused on her white tennis shoes.

Yuuki spoke, filling the silence with his soft-spoken voice.

"I want my brother back to normal."

Kotoko turned to him. His round little face reminded her of Mr. Irie; the eyes, however, were like those of his mother, but she couldn't deny that the serious gaze he held mostly resembled his older brother.

"I don't understand," she said.

He met her eye, only for a second. "He's been acting different."

"Different? How?" she questioned, watching his expression shake away from the simple narrowness to an open complexity.

"He—He… No, I—I just want…" He snapped to attention, not letting her question reveal his true intention.

Try as he might, Yuuki was not like his older brother. Curious for his own good, and his cool composure shaken easily, Yuuki revealed his emotions more than Irie. Like now, she could see the doubts in his actions and the anger he held against himself for losing his tough attitude.

"I don't know why I look for you. You can't even solve a simple math question, let alone have common sense that the cooking oil goes in the pan. You're hopeless."

He rose on his feet and dusted away the dirt from his jeans. He then swiped his hands together and removed whatever dust that clung to his skin into the air. Home was a block away. He stared down the street, contemplating his decision of leaving or not.

Instead he stayed when he said, "Look, get back at him. Put him through the same thing. Make him feel how you feel. Play that needy, crybaby part and fool everyone that you're hopelessly pathetic."

She raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "Why is it I feel that you're insulting me than helping me?"

Yuuki balled both fists and barked, "Hey! Pay attention!"

"I still don't understand why you are doing this."

Yuuki frowned and turned his head away from her, his balled fists now rested by his sides.

"It doesn't matter why; just do it." He couldn't help but add, "Idiot."

Kotoko felt her eyebrow twitch in annoyance. "You know, kid, you're pushing your luck, and besides, I still don't know why you are doing this."

"Does everything need an explanation!" he barked at her, annoyed by her constant questioning.

"In this case, yes. It's a bit odd for you to suddenly want to go against your brother."

He relieved her suspicion toward his action by clarifying, "I just want my brother back to normal. I'm getting tired that he…" He refrained from saying more. And with a scowl, he headed back home, while shouting, "Forget it! I'm wasting my time!"

Kotoko stood up. One step after another, he kept walking further away from her. She stopped him from leaving her completely when she said, "It's not that simple. I'm not him. I don't play with people's feelings."

"Yeah, I know," he shouted back to her. In the background, dogs began to bark at the intruder (them) nearby. Yuuki ignored them and finished with, "You're just a pushover!"

She said nothing in return.

xx

"You're quite serious today," Yuuki addressed the day after.

Kotoko played with her food, which was over-easy eggs and waffles with strawberries coated on top, and tore the yolk open, as it spread and clung to the waffles in yellow. She scrambled it together, creating a mess. Like a representation of her mind, Kotoko was concerned over a heavy thought.

"I heard Irie asked you last night if you loved him."

The mere mention of Irie's name made her crease her eyebrows together. She stabbed the fork in the egg and ceased from moving for a moment.

"Oh, I wonder why."

Although sarcastic, he cleared any doubts toward his brother's behavior. "He hates losing people; even though, the majority of the time, he causes them to leave him."

That caught her attention to look at his round face.

He continued after a moment of silence, "Mother lost him once at a grocery store when he was a child. Children like to explore, no doubt my brother ran off to do just that."

He glanced at the kitchen, pondering if his mother heard him. Any second, she would emerge and finish the story, but when a couple of seconds dragged on, it seemed Yuuki would have to do it, only for this once.

"I really don't know the whole story. Some of it didn't make sense. Like such as, when my brother was missing, he had on a dress. I don't know why he was wearing that, but I concluded it was because he had an accident in his clothes."

Kotoko held back a laugh. Yuuki, oblivious to his older brother's secret, could hardly understand his mother's odd way of dressing her older son into a girl.

He continued, "The police found him two days later. He wasn't the same anymore, though—so Mother tells me."

"He wasn't the same?"

Yuuki was apprehensive of saying more but he continued, for the sake to end her curiosity. "Being alone scared him. He hated it, so I heard. Then he began to dislike preschool. Kids were making fun of him. They called him, "Miss Irie"—really I don't understand bullies, and I certainly did not understand why they referred Irie as miss."

Yuuki kept speaking about his dislike toward the name calling. Kotoko could faintly hear him in the background and stared past his shoulder toward the kitchen. She could imagine Mrs. Irie scrubbing away at the dirty dishes, listening to every word that her younger son said.

She could then imagine Mrs. Irie resting her hands from scrubbing and looking out the small window, staring at her garden that rested at the side of the house. The bees would be humming around her sunflowers and daisies. And at the side, protected by a small, metal fence, would be the vegetables, ready to be washed and stored in the fridge. Mrs. Irie would then rub her forehead with the back of her hand, removing the hair from her face and resume scrubbing.

And all the time she was washing dishes, and staring out the window, she would recollect that memory of her older son crying at the children's teasing for wearing a dress during preschool. She thought with a simple dress she could have a daughter, but in the end she had a son, who became not only cold toward her, but his father as well, for letting his mother get away with her nonsense.

"It's hard to believe that your brother suffered through that when he's perfect," she said when he stop talking.

"Even perfection has its flaws. Brother is no different."

"Does he ever talk about it?"

Yuuki shook his head. "He hates talking about it; said it's a chapter not worth mentioning."

"Does he ever think about it?"

Again, he shook his head. "He told me that if he clung to his past, he will never move on. He needed to move on to become the man he is today; otherwise, his fears will only hold him back from achieving greatness."

Somehow listening to those words slip from Yuuki's mouth troubled Kotoko. She lowered her head and picked up her discarded fork.

"Yuuki?"

He listened to her, even when he pushed his seat out and collected his dirty dishes.

"You dislike bullies and their name calling, right?"

"I told you I don't like repeating myself."

Kotoko ignored his irritated tone and finished, "Then why do you make fun of me if that's what bullies do?"

He had nothing to offer as an excuse.

xx

Yuuki walked across the wooden floors and entered Kotoko's room when he noticed the door opened. Mrs. Irie no longer cried to Kotoko's sudden departure. In fact, to not think about Kotoko leaving the house, like his older brother, Naoki, did, his mother busied herself with cleaning up her mess. As if destroying plates would bring back his brother, who, by the way, had been gone for two weeks; sometimes Yuuki wondered what his mother was thinking.

Kotoko moved her books into the cardboard box and stacked them neatly against each other. Her clothes rested on her bed as he noticed the closet empty aside from her shoes lingering on the ground. He rested his back against the wall and peered out the door when he heard footsteps approach.

It was simply Mr. Irie and Mr. Aihara grabbing the next box that was ready to be placed behind the back of the truck. His father's friend from work was kind enough to help with transporting Kotoko's things to her new home.

Yuuki turned his eyes away from them and placed his attention on Kotoko. She had her back toward him as she nimbly placed her things neatly together inside the box.

He spoke, as the seconds dragged into silence, no longer able to contain his thoughts on the matter. "So you're moving out… finally!"

Even as he toyed with her feelings with fake enthusiasm, he kept his face settle from showing that he would dearly miss her, as much as he missed his brother.

Kotoko grabbed the massive tape and sealed the box and marked it as school books. She grabbed the next empty box and began to stack her clothes inside.

"Yuuki," she said, never turning to face him, "you're just like your brother."

Yuuki took the compliment with a smile. "Thank you."

She shook her head and couldn't help but smile as well. "Leave it to you to take it as a compliment."

Yuuki moved his foot across the other and placed his hands in his pockets. He really didn't know what to do with his hands. He felt restless for some odd reason.

"It will be quiet without you here. I should call Brother and tell him to move back home," he teased her. He was hoping to gain a reaction instead she remained impassive to his words. Not even a nimble retort, or pouting of lips, elicit from the silent Kotoko.

He began to grow worried.

The awkward silence lapsed in between them, perturbing Yuuki senseless. He began to play with his hands, his uneasiness ate him apart. Then he tore his attention away from his hands and watched as Kotoko poured her clothes into the box with burning passion.

Hands flashed back and forth from bed to box desperately. Her mood screamed of nervousness. It began to clip into his mind that he was not the only one who couldn't stand the awkward silence, and began to wonder with growing curiosity what plagued her mind.

"Yuuki, I—" began Kotoko doubtfully, and then stopped.

He insisted for her to continue.

Kotoko turned her head a little to avoid the scrutiny of Yuuki's eyes.

"I might be going away for a while." He offered little words to her announcement. It surprised him, to say at least, of her intention. Yuuki wanted to know more to her brash reason.

And she quickly began to explain to him. "I've been thinking about moving far away from here."

"Why?"

"You won't understand but I feel miserable here. People look at me and find me revolting that I share the same space with Irie."

"People are judgmental," he was quick to add. It never occurred to him how fragile she appeared behind her bubbly personality. In fact, as he quickly examined her profile, he never thought that behind her determination laid a girl desperate for recognition, and not only from his brother, but everyone else that deemed her worthless.

Then he put the pieces together and saw what he never saw before. In front of him, storing her clothes away, laid a young woman, told each day what she could never be. He never thought, as he pulled away from the wall, that he took part of her misery.

"Yes, I know that, but I don't want people to look down at me. I don't want your brother to look down at me. I want to escape from him and never run back to him. I just need to get away," Kotoko said it with a kind of sadness, although well knowing Yuuki did not care of what she did.

It would be a lie, in matter of fact, if he admitted that he did not care of her decision. Yuuki cared as much as his older brother did. He just never liked showing his feelings.

He then turned toward the door and faced the hallway. "How much is away?"

Kotoko sealed the box and pushed it away from her. "I don't know," she said. "Maybe forever."

Forever did not settle well in his mind.

xx

Three. Two. One.

Yuuki jumped off the last step of the stairs and turned his feet toward the front door. Since his brother's departure, and Kotoko's as well, Yuuki never hated the silence as much as he did now. Without them bickering, and Kotoko's large interest in his brother to tease, Yuuki never thought that he would miss her as much as he would miss his brother.

As he made his way toward the front door, he really hoped that one of them came to visit. It would be a nice change from having his mother invade his privacy as she did with his older brother. It seemed she wanted to play matchmaker with him as well. Not a fat chance would Yuuki allow that to happen.

He did not bother to look into the peephole to discover who it was. Without a care in the world, he opened the door and was astonished to find Kotoko with her hand poised in the air. She slowly lowered her arm and gave a tentative smile.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. Happiness swelled in his stomach. He never thought he would be happy to see her of all people.

"I came to see your mother."

He allowed her entrance. Nothing changed about her. She still looked the same after weeks of not seeing her. Here he thought she would manage to throw away her childish look for something sophisticated but then he realized that he was simply hoping that she managed to grow up.

In the end, she looked the same as always. Nothing changed about her, and he felt disappointed with that. In fact, he resented her for that.

She took off her shoes and laid them to a side, along with the rest of his family's shoes.

"I wanted to tell you that your brother confessed."

Yuuki hoped that what she meant was what he thought.

"He told me he loved me."

Finally, shouted his mind. Happiness nearly burst out of him when he heard the news. But he kept his emotions intact, not wanting to break from his impassive stance. It would ruin his reputation if he let her see that he had emotions. In fact, she would relentlessly pursue to see his reactions more often.

She lowered her purse on the dining table as they ventured away from the main entrance and into the dining area. He offered her a seat, not something he would do often, but he did not want to be rude, not after their last conversation plagued his mind for over a few months.

He wanted to prove her different that he was not a bully, like those kids that bullied his brother, or those kids that bullied him at school, referring him as "Geek" or "Nerd"—terms that he found nothing negative about. Now, they became a little creative, if Yuuki should deem their thinking prowess as creative, as they referred him as "little pussy".

He was getting angry in front of her. He pushed his problems aside, and focused on relaxing the tension in his muscles. If Naoki had managed to stop the bullying by becoming a cold-hearted person than it shouldn't be a problem for him either.

Kotoko waved a hand in front of his face, earning his attention.

"You okay?" She slid back into her chair.

"I'm fine," he quickly said. "I should get Mother for you."

He turned toward the kitchen, where the back door laid into the garden his mother poured her energy in when she had nothing else to do. He moved his feet forward, and then turned them around when he heard Kotoko address his name.

As he looked at her, he noticed something entirely different about her face. The resentment he had toward her vanished and was replaced with respect. In her face, he saw a woman, growing stronger by the second, and not letting her problems drag her down. But perhaps he was projecting of what he hoped he saw on her expression.

"Yuuki." She gained his attention immediately. "You already knew about your brother's feelings, huh?"

He did not lie to her. "Yes. Brother was acting different around you. And I hated that he kept denying his feelings toward you. I didn't like it that he liked you, but what can I do?"

Maybe he shouldn't have said that.

"Is that why you tried so hard to make me push your brother away? You wanted him back to normal?"

No, screamed his mind, he wanted her to gain a boost confidence. But he didn't tell her that, and instead nodded his head to keep from revealing his true intention.

"Don't worry," she added. "I didn't accept his love."

That shocked him to the core, and made him sputter out, "What! Why!"

"It just doesn't feel right," she told him, not making an ounce of sense.

"You're an idiot," he couldn't help but insult her, even when he knew he shouldn't.

She took his insult with a smile and watched as he exited through the kitchen, her words echoing behind him, "So I've been told."

xx

It had been a couple of weeks since Yuuki had last heard of Kotoko. He sometimes wondered what she's been up to, and whether she managed to push past that strong barrier that held her back from achieving greatness. And as he thought about her, the house phone rang, distracting him from his thoughts.

He turned his head and looked toward the phone. It rang noisily, enough to gain his mother's attention from upstairs. Shouting from above the stairs, she said, "Yuuki, can you get that?"

Yuuki groaned and pushed out his seat. His textbook was propped open on the table, as his homework laid around it with loose pieces of blank paper stack to a side. He cursed when he saw his led pencil roll off the table and fall to the ground, rolling somewhere where he couldn't see. Picking up the phone on the fifth ring, he placed the cordless phone to his ear, and grumbled, "Irie household, Yuuki speaking."

"I fought with your brother."

He instantly knew who it was.

"Kotoko?"

She kept explaining, not wanting to stop and listen to him. It was as if she was trying to reason with herself by talking aloud to him. But he listened to her, even as she spoke, not making sense most of the time.

"I'm confused about what I should do."

Yuuki wanted to know more behind her fight with Irie, not about her insecurity. But still he kept silent, and listened to each word.

"I don't feel happy. I just have this heavy weight on my chest that I want to release."

He had enough with this confusion—not being able to understand the whole situation with Kotoko and his brother. He said, albeit rudely, "And you're telling me this because?"

She quickly responded with, "It seems we developed a friendship throughout the months."

Friendship between him and her—how he wanted to laugh at the silliness of it, but he felt this warm feeling in his stomach of being accepted as friend by her.

"Plus," she continued, "…you're the only one to understand your brother."

Sometimes he didn't understand what he compelled him to listen to her, but as she continued to talk about her situation with Irie, he pulled out a chair and stayed on the phone, not wanting to leave her alone, for the first time.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Kotoko opened her eyes when the cab rolled over a bump. The driver apologized and stopped the vehicle to a side. He went out to inspect and returned to announce that they ran over an empty purse—of all things disposed on the street, what was an empty purse doing on the road?—and closed the door behind him. He turned on his right signal and resumed taking her to her destination.

The house was just around the corner. So little time, but so much do. How would she ever escape from this dreadful city when Irie was about an hour away to finish work?

It didn't matter, though. He was about to find out the truth. Not the entire truth, of course. But he will see her point of view through the letter she left on the coffee table. Matsumoto, no doubt, returned to the apartment. She could already imagine Yuuko's eyes growing wide with disbelief as she would run out that door, letter in hand, her goal set on finding Irie to tell him of Kotoko's departure.

xx

Yuuki opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling above him. April 10—spring arrived in the nick of time. Finally, the whole charade with Kotoko and Irie would come to an end. Irie would finally marry her, and she would finally brag about how with a little determination anything could be achieved.

The past no longer mattered anymore. He pushed back those memories he had with Kotoko and sat up on the couch. But something did not settle well with him. He felt strange for some odd reason, as if there was something waiting to surprise him and shatter his day.

The sensation began to tickle his stomach with a rising fear. He knew that there was something waiting to be released, to capture him in shock, and screw with his mind. Then he heard it, resonating in loud knocks that came from the front door. Quickly, he got on his feet and rushed toward the main entrance.

And waiting for him, like always patiently, stood Kotoko, dressed in pink shorts and a white top.

"Yuuki!" she greeted enthusiastically.

That fear in his stomach wrapped around him inside and out. It must have been because he dreaded having another conversation about his older brother. Letting her inside, and shutting the door behind her, he let out a sigh, as she placed her shoes to a side.

"I know why you are here." She looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "You're here to have another conversation about my brother, right?"

She broke into a grin. "The last one!"

"Let's get this over with." Yuuki secretly began to rejoice of her visit. It's been far too long since he had last seen her. In fact, he stopped hearing from her since their last phone conversation in October.

He led her toward the living room and offered her a seat. Kotoko sat down and twiddled her hands. She then brought them to her face and spoke highly about his brother.

"I moved back with him," she announced suddenly.

Somehow, hearing those words slipped from her mouth, made him stagger away from his fear to look at her. Those words, as she smiled and chatted happily, sounded dull—nothing compared to her outside image. There was something entirely wrong with this picture.

"I heard from Mother about what happened," he told her. Even if he did not hear from her, his mother kept in contact with her. He found out that his brother left. He found out that she chased after him. And, now, he was finding out that she moved back with him.

She stopped from moving her hands around and chatting about her life with Irie as she rested her hands on her lap and sat up straighter in her seat. Then he noticed with clear eyes that her cheeriness was being played and that her smile was being forced. That fear in his stomach began to point its direction toward her. And that resentment he had toward her when he saw that her appearance had never changed came back in full force.

In those wintry eyes, he saw her sadness—the very sadness that he came to hate with passion, for it reflected her insecurity. How he hated seeing it; it reminded him so much of his own insecurity of failing his older brother and becoming like the rest of the others—easy targets for bullies to trample on.

He was not easy. He was like his older brother. Cold, calculating, and above all, intelligent—no one could take that away from him. But here was this woman, revealing her true feelings with those sad eyes of hers. He wanted to push her away; scream at her; call her idiotic for displaying such weakness.

He looked away from her. His hopes of boosting her confidence failed.

"I'm leaving him."

Those words toyed with his feelings. He began to break from his cool composure and began to show his weakness. Turning to her, in a blaze of fury, he quipped, "Why!"

She calmly responded, unbothered by his wrathful face, "You remember the day I told you that I thought about leaving?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well," she continued with her steady tone, "I want to make it true."

His wrath began to pour into his movements, as he stood from his seat and towered over her.

"You have Irie now! Aren't you happy?"

Kotoko turned her head a little to a side. "No, I'm not. I feel unsatisfied."

"But you did so much! You're independent, determined, and strong—why can't you see that?"

"I just can't see it. I don't feel happy."

"I thought you loved him," he pulled on her.

She turned her head and faced him with teary eyes. Those blasted tears of hers—how he hated that. It began to tear him apart, watching a tear roll down her cheek. It was slowly driving him over the edge.

"I do," she tried to convince him. He didn't buy it, even if she meant it.

"Then why are you doing this to my brother?"

Irie didn't deserve this, even when he ridicule her to the brink of tears. His brother changed from that cold-hearted person to someone he can finally talk to without it being a one-sided conversation.

Kotoko, however, didn't deserve to be pushed around either. But still his brother did not deserve this punishment.

"It's not your brother. It's me. I have to go."

Then, like a glass shattering in front of him, he realized that what he hated the most about her was her damn insecurity, which pulled her away from living a happy life. It clouded over her head as a deity, and pulled her apart as a chain. It rattled her mind with words like, "Stupid," and "Idiot," and "Useless," as well.

He never thought that words alone could shatter a person apart. He never believed that words could be so powerful, not even when Irie began to tell him how he dealt with his bullies. He never believed him, but as of today, he began to see how strong words could be.

"Tell your mother I'm sorry."

She stood up from her seat and headed toward the front entrance and placed on her shoes. The front door opened. Yuuki still had a chance to stop her and provide her reason to stay and resolve whatever issue she had with herself here—and if she needed his help, he would give it to her without a second thought.

Instead, once that door came to a close, his chance began to grow slimmer and slimmer as she moved her feet toward her awaiting vehicle. He then turned his head toward the kitchen when he knew his chance had begun to slip away from him.

Loudly, he spoke, his voice raw from the overwhelming emotion he was experiencing, "Mother—did you know she was leaving?"

He could imagine his mother resting her hands against the counter with tears rolling down her cheeks. "Yes, Yuuki," she admitted. "I knew since last month. But she's been planning her departure since December."

"Why didn't you stop her?" he asked.

She openly admitted, as some sort of defeat, "That's no longer my place anymore."

And that was the last time Irie Yuuki saw of Aihara Kotoko.

He regretted not being able to stop her, which he sometimes wondered why he never ran to get her. Maybe he wanted her to leave, and to live without depending on his brother so much. Maybe he wanted his brother to realize his biggest mistake of losing the best person in his life. Still, even as he contemplated his reasons, his regret never left him in peace.

Even as the years came and went, and he sat on a hospital chair, recollecting his memories of her to his friend, Nobuhiro Kimura, he would never forget about his biggest regret of failing to stop Kotoko from leaving.

* * *

**Notes**: The remaining chapters-17 & 18-will be posted later or two days from now. I'm still not satisfied with the last two chapters.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Matsumoto Yuuko walked across the sidewalk toward her apartment building. Slung over her shoulder, her bag of school supplies and books were secured tightly together. It was proving to be heavy to carry that she stopped and pulled a book out to relieve her shoulder from the weight. Pleased with her decision, her shoulder felt better.

She hurried up the steps that led to her apartment and unlocked the door. The lights were off when she entered. It was the middle of the afternoon—where was Kotoko at?

She settled her belongings on the dining table and turned on the light in the kitchen. It brightened the room, a lot better than what she could previously see, and moved toward the blinds in the living room. Sun poured in and shined the room with light.

Matsumoto relaxed on the couch and twirled her hair. She felt strange. As if something was missing. She stood up from her seat and looked around the apartment. Everything seemed to be in order. She checked her phone. No missed calls. No text messages.

Nothing was out of the ordinary.

She moved her feet toward Kotoko's room but stopped. Kotoko might be asleep. She knew Kotoko did not have classes this semester. Instead she chose to work as much as possible. Perhaps, she was at work.

She reached for her bag and pulled out her phone. Looking in the contacts, Kotoko's name was highlighted in blue. She played with her phone, thinking about the choice she should make. Instead she saved her phone on the table.

Matsumoto was thinking too hard about the flutter in her stomach.

Returning to the kitchen, she began her lunch. Two hours—that's all she had to rest, and then she would have to return for her last class. Pulling out the wheat bread, she sat it down on the table, and then noticed an envelope resting next to her white lilies.

She reached for it and found Irie's name written across as neatly as possible. She knew the handwriting from anywhere. Kotoko wrote it for him. Curious about what it held, she toyed with the letter in her hand, twirling it around, unable to decide whether to read it or not.

Living with Kotoko, Matsumoto came to understand a lot about the redhead. As she had imagined, her friend—how it felt nice to have another friend to her small list of contacts—seemed to be focused on pleasing Irie to the limit. If only Kotoko could see the damage she was creating to herself.

She was not pleasing him. She was trying to find a way to please herself.

Matsumoto laid the letter to rest and began to take out the rest of the things needed to make a sandwich. While she busied her hands, her mind thought of the redhead woman. Her behavior of late drastically changed. She seemed mindful, kept to herself, and hardly said anything anymore.

What could be possibly going on through Kotoko's head? And what about Irie? Did he tell her what she had told him to do?

He had reassured her that he did, with an apology and everything. But she doubted his word.

In fact, as she looked at the letter, she couldn't help but stop at what she was doing and grab it. It was inexcusable to read a letter that was not her own. But for once, she felt as if she was doing the right thing.

She tore the envelope open and took out the letter. On a piece of paper torn from a notebook, she took in the scribbling mess Kotoko wrote in haste. At that moment she staggered back, hand smothering her gasp.

She reread it again. She reread it a third time. Then she made her move. Grabbing her bag with the letter thrust inside, and phone in hand, she ran out the door. Lunch forgotten on the table, she could hardly care for it. Irie, her mind screamed. She needed to call him.

She placed the phone in her ear and dialed his number.

It rang and rang, and then led straight to voicemail.

Five seconds later, her phone rang. Hope flared in her heart, but dropped when she noticed the name. Sudou of all people began to call her. She answered it quickly.

"I'm in a hurry."

"_Is Kotoko with you?_"

She stopped near the sidewalk and did not cross the street.

"No. Why?"

"_She's not answering her phone._"

Matsumoto began to think about her next move.

"_Matsumoto?_"

"Where are you?" she asked.

"_I'm heading toward your apartment._"

"Good idea. I'll be waiting."

She hung up the phone and dialed Irie's number once more.

xx

Sudou drove toward the apartment building where Matsumoto lived. In the car, Satomi and Jinko sat, concerned over the disappearance of their friend. He was surprised that they had managed to track him down before he left. With their heavy tears, and constant questioning about what they had done to deserve this, Kotoko's friends had received a small note stating that she would be transferring to another university.

They didn't understand what compelled her to make that brash move. Sudou didn't understand either. All he could think about was Kotoko's note addressed to him.

_Tell her how you really feel._

It was not safe to think about it. He needed to focus on the road. With two young women crying in the backseat, he had to concentrate on getting to the apartment safely. At the corner of Apple of where the apartment rested, Matsumoto waited. He parked the car across from her as she hurried and jumped in the passenger seat.

She noticed the two women in the car and ignored them.

"Kotoko took everything."

He moved the gear in drive, going nowhere in particular. He just needed to do something.

"What do you mean?"

"She took all her furniture."

"How?"

Matsumoto still appeared to be in disbelief over the fact. She quickly said, "I don't know. She must have done it when I went to class in the morning. She didn't attend this semester. She said she was going for work."

In the back, Satomi added, "That's what she told us."

"Did she leave you a note or a letter?" Matsumoto questioned them.

Sudou stopped at the red light, still unsure of where he should be going. He was trapped in traffic. He felt agitated and moved his eyes toward the rearview mirror. Jinko and Satomi explained what Kotoko had written to them to Matsumoto. He saw, ahead of him, the car inched forward. The light, however, still remained red.

He kept his mind focus on other things instead of his agitation. Cool air hit his face, drafting the perfume that Matsumoto wore to his nose. It smelled enriching, and intoxicated his senses. He never felt heavily attracted to a woman as he was now.

At that moment he pushed those thoughts aside. Kotoko was the main person to concentrate on. He moved the car forward when the light turned green and took a left toward Irie's workplace.

As Matsumoto placed the phone in her ear, Irie still did not answer. In the end, she was forced to call the Irie household.

xx

"Irie household, Yuuki speaking."

Yuuki heard a breath of relief on the other side of the line.

"_This is Matsumoto Yuuko. I'm a friend of Irie Naoki and Aihara Kotoko. Is Aihara there by any chance?_"

He looked out the window and watched his mother yell from the front door.

"No."

Matsumoto—as the woman called herself—heard the distress and quickly said, "Is there something going on?"

Yuuki watched his mother slide to the floor, begging and pleading for Irie to come back. He could hear the other woman listen to his mother's voice shouting out Irie's name.

Matsumoto jumped on saying, "_Is Irie there_?"

"Yes."

"_May I talk to him?_"

"You can't." He could tell the woman was waiting for an explanation when she stayed quiet. He quickly said, "He's running to stop her."

The phone almost slipped out of his hand and was set down. Stepping outside to where his mother sat with a hand covering her crying face, he kneeled to the ground and hugged her from behind.

xx

Irie Naoki never thought that his surprise visit to his mother would end up as a disaster. In a yellow taxicab, he noticed Kotoko quickly jumping inside. He shouted her name, and he knew that she was ignoring him.

The car moved forward. He jogged toward his home. His mother and brother walked out of the house and past the gate to greet him with solemn expressions. The moment he saw his mother's face stricken with tears, he felt his heart drop.

"Where is she going?"

His mother didn't speak. His brother, however, did.

"Away."

"Where?"

"I don't know."

The taxicab stopped a block away at the stop sign. He chased after it, even when his mother told him to stop, that to let her go. He passed some children on the street, watching as their faces turned quizzical when he dashed past their home. The taxicab accelerated and moved into the thirty mile zone.

He knew he was far behind. There was no way in hell he could catch up to a moving vehicle. So why was he running? Why did he chase after her when he knew that she was running far from him?

When he reached the third block, he dropped himself on his knees and gathered his breath. He felt numb all over. A part of him was lost. Kotoko took that part. She left him weak, vulnerable, and, above all, sad.

He wanted to cry. Instead he watched the street of where she disappeared, letting her departure sink in. Time forgotten, he heard footsteps approach from behind. He turned and welcomed Matsumoto's presence with a scoff and a distressing chuckle after.

Oh, how miserable he felt inside.

He deserved this, didn't he?

"She left this for you," Matsumoto broke the silence with a clear voice. She held the letter for him to take. He didn't take it—not yet.

He glanced behind him once more, eyes sweeping toward the sidewalk and into the street. The yellow taxicab was now gone, but how he imagined it sitting to a side with a redhead in the backseat. Then he swallowed his despair and approached his friend, with the letter still waiting to reach its owner.

Irie grabbed it and looked at it. Folded in four squares, he noticed that it was torn from a notebook. It could be a page from her dairy—it most likely was.

Matsumoto waited for him to make his move. He looked behind her. Sudou sat on the curb of the sidewalk, looking ahead of him, lost in his own world. Past him, Jinko and Satomi stood, angrily watching him, as if they were blaming him for what he had done.

He never imagined that their glowering faces would be the last image he would have of them.

"Irie?"

Matsumoto cleared his mind from the heavy guilt hovering above him as he concentrated on the letter at last. With a languid smile, he stared straight into her eye and took the paper in his hands and ripped it apart.

Her gasp became his delight.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

"Why did you rip the letter?"

Doctor Irie gave a faint smile and secured his hands together on his lap. "I refused to read it. I was angry. I was in pain. I just felt betrayed."

"Are you still mad?"

He straightened his back in the seat. "No. Not anymore."

Nobuhiro Kimura settled into the sheets and allowed the heart monitor to take the gap of where the silence stood in between them. Doctor Irie, silent and serious as he ever was normally, sat in the chair, left of his hospital bed. He lifted his eyes and seemed to take in the length of the room, searching for a distraction.

On the table right of Nobuhiro sat Irie's empty carton box, once filled with his homemade food. His mother, no doubt, prepared his meal each day. Nobuhiro felt a pint of jealously claim him for a moment, before it fluttered away, its existence questionable.

He looked at Doctor Irie, taking in his deadpan expression. Behind that cool composure, Nobuhiro was able to see a man trapped in his sorrow and loneliness, the very image of himself.

The tape around his left hand began to bug him again. How he wanted to scratch at it. For a brief moment, he glared at the offending tape, strapping the IV in place. He placed his eyes elsewhere, ignoring the need to scratch.

Nobuhiro began to think of Yuuki instead. Yuuki did not lie when he had told him that he, and his older brother, had a story to share. At first, his older brother had objected telling his side of the story, but then out of the blue he had wanted to clear any misunderstandings that Yuuki must've made with his storytelling.

Then two people he didn't know had appeared to talk to him, filling in the gaps of where the brothers failed to provide. It was tidbit information, things he necessarily didn't need to know, but even that tidbit information helped realize how crucial Kotoko's departure impacted their lives.

Matsumoto Yuuko—beautiful woman if he ever saw—never took her eyes off the man named Sudou. From what he could see, the woman loved him, as much as he did to her. No doubt a wedding was approaching.

Still, concentrating on the present, Nobuhiro never imagined that the Irie brothers would fall in despair over one woman. Perhaps because they had a family that supported them and friends that cheered them on that Nobuhiro found it difficult to see them heartbroken. But, as he can see clearly in Naoki's expression, no matter if he led a fulfilling life or not, he suffered with his problems as well.

Doctor Irie didn't need an illness like his to be miserable. Maybe that's what Yuuki was trying to tell him—and it also explained Yuuki's mission to make him happy. Irie Yuuki did not want a second regret.

At that moment, his train of thought came to halt. He looked up and watched as Doctor Irie took the empty carton and disposed of it in the trash. He then rinsed his hands and wiped them dry with disposal napkins.

Nobuhiro couldn't help but ask, "How long has it been?"

Doctor Irie approached the bed and tucked his hands in his pockets.

"More than seven years now." He then turned his attention to the clock. Nobuhiro followed his eye and took in the time as well. Thirty minutes had gone by—it was time for Doctor Irie to return to his shift.

But when Nobuhiro returned his attention to Doctor Irie, he found his eyes settled on him. Irie was examining him, perhaps still looking for that young boy he saw years ago, helpless and alone, lying on a hospital bed.

But he was no more. Well, the little body did grow up. Time did that to people, which brought up an important detail Nobuhiro should've mentioned to Yuuki and his older brother. The story that he heard from them—it was quite similar to the one he had heard weeks ago.

To ease up the awkward silence, Nobuhiro jabbed, in light humor, "It took a whole damn two weeks for you to finish your side of the story."

Laughter.

"I'm a busy man," Irie explained, his voice light as it could ever be.

He excused himself and turned away, heading toward the door. It would be his final exit to the tale—never knowing of what happened to the main girl.

Quickly, before his chance slipped away from him, Nobuhiro said, "You know, I heard a story similar to yours from a nurse here." He paused for a moment to build up the suspense; growing the curiosity of the mysterious nurse. Irie turned his head, falling into his trap.

Nobuhiro swore he saw a smile on his face, as if hinting that he already knew. "Oh?"

"Yes, except in her story it was about regret on losing the one she loved."

"Is that right?" he asked, almost as if he questioning someone else and not Nobuhiro. He was able to tell that Irie's train of thought drew him away from the room and into another matter. It made him wonder what could've possibly distracted him. Could it be that he already knew of the nurse?

Giving him another rare smile, he bowed his head. "I must be going."

"You know," Nobuhiro said when Irie's hand touched the door handle. "I think if you search hard enough, you'll find her again—and this time she won't be running away."

Irie did not comment on the matter. Instead he merely offered a friendly farewell, "You should rest. Take care." Number 52—the silver number nailed to the door—opened and closed behind Doctor Irie's departure, and allowed Nobuhiro to chuckle discreetly.

There was no doubt in his mind that Doctor Irie knew of the mysterious nurse.

xx

Doctor Irie entered the busy hallway of the surgery department and began to navigate his feet across the white tiles toward his next patient. He could hear the phones ringing off, and the nurses chatting with one another about a doctor's verbal order to prescribe more medication for a patient.

He saw a male nurse enter a patient's room and checked the patient's vital signs. And in the room next to that, he saw a glimpse of two nurses preparing the room for the next patient coming in. He was observant to everything he saw, including that of a redheaded nurse coming toward him of the opposite direction. Her head was lowered, chin tucked to her collarbone. In her hands were fresh sheets stacked together neatly.

It took one simple second for them to glance at each other. And it took another second for him to realize how close he was on saying her name. It wasn't time for him to chat. He needed to go on his next task. For this time, he would let her go, as countless times he did before.

Besides, something about today told him that he would see her again.

But he never presumed that it would be in front of Pediatrics. The mechanical doors swished behind him to a close. In the corner, standing under the lamppost, she stood with her bag strapped over her shoulder, hands held tightly around the strap.

He shot her a sidelong glance and watched as she chewed on her bottom lip nervously.

Irie let out a sigh and took the opportunity to strike up a conversation. "It feels good to be out."

She kept silent, perhaps afraid of her own voice shattering under the increasing pressure.

"I never expected you to be working here," he addressed the issue at last. He took a second to glance at her and noticed her eyes were on him. He stayed focused on them for a moment before he looked away, waiting for the taxicab to arrive.

He added after a short moment of silence, "You haven't changed, Kotoko."

She mumbled a response in return, "You haven't either."

"So… you were the one who began the storytelling."

"Nobuhiro had changed, Irie." His name rolled over her tongue with ease. He swallowed his emotions and forced his face to stay serious. It had been far too long since he had heard her voice. Here he imagined that she would be gone for his life forever, but it was only temporarily. He felt his emotions rise. He needed to focus on the present.

"Is that your excuse of telling him?"

"I wanted to share my life experience with him. Maybe it would change his mind about life. I didn't know that he would ask you."

"It wasn't him that asked me to tell my side of the story." He was able to feel her eyes rest on him. "It was Yuuki—he told me about you and what you had told Nobuhiro."

"Yuuki," she expressed his name with furlong pain. "He changed. He's so…" She searched for the appropriate word to describe him, and settled with, "…different."

She then looked at him, fear rattling her bones. "Are you mad?"

"No. Like you said, he needed to know."

"No." She shook her head. "I mean—are you mad about what I did?"

He took the silence to think about his next choice of words. In truth, all he wanted was her back in his life. After the intensive pain he went through, and forgiving her for leaving, he wanted a second chance with her. But he feared her rejection, and could not bring himself to look into her eye.

He spoke, softly through the night wind, "You surprised me."

She lifted her eyebrows in confusion.

"I never thought you would go for nursing, Kotoko." He looked into her eye and gave a smile. "You did it."

Kotoko smiled. "I did, huh? I finally accomplished something." With teary eyes, she asked him, the one question that plagued her in the past, and even now, "Are you proud of me?"

He began to feel his eyes water that he had to look away for a moment. Returning his attention toward her, he nodded his head, and said, "Yes—I've always been proud of you."

Acceptance—finally, as he was able to see through her expression, she felt at ease. She sputtered in tears and placed a hand over her mouth.

"Are you done running?"

Kotoko nodded her head.

Irie continued, "I've waited for you."

Her bottom lip began to tremble.

"I couldn't give up on you. I loved you too much."

He felt a tear roll down his cheek.

She regained her voice, although it sounded faint, tired. "You didn't have to do that."

"I would do anything for you. Just don't leave me."

He did not want to feel alone again. She looked at him and whispered his name. He continued, "Please. Never do that to me again."

She remained quiet, with tears rolling down her cheeks. The air felt close and stuffy—he was suffocating with suspense, waiting to know if he had a second chance with her. And her answer came with a smile, and twinkle of a promise flaring in her eye.

He felt his heart skip a beat when he took in her beautiful face.

"So…" she questioned when the taxicab rolled into view. "…what happens now?"

For once in his life, he felt at ease, no longer caring about what the world viewed him as. He took in her face, and looked down to her lips. He then gave a rare smile of his and offered her his hand.

"I don't know. Let's find out."

He didn't need to repeat himself again. She eagerly took his hand and explored the unknown path that awaited them.

...

...

...

* * *

**Notes**: I would like to thank all of you, whether you reviewed, placed this in favorite, followed, or just read it—I thank all of you for your support. I'm not much of words, but this will probably be my longest author notes.

I wrote this story because I couldn't see a woman take all that crap she took in—being called an idiot, stupid, or being put down in general—and brush it off as if it was nothing. I wanted to show the bad side of that.

For a lot of people, it's hard to change when you are around the person who makes you miserable. Case and point: Kotoko lives with Irie. She wanted to change—she kept saying that she would be independent and all these things, only to go the opposite when she decided to share an apartment with Irie.

Lot of people that I know do that—make a goal than go against it.

As for Irie, he didn't know what he was doing. He never been in a relationship; he fails at reading body language. He's only good at school, but not in the dating world.

Going back to Kotoko, she was emotionally a mess. She kept doing things for Irie, never for her. The whole spring thing was another goal she made but she didn't follow through with it.

Her leaving was her way of healing. Everyone has a different method to heal. Hers was to escape.

Irie—he suffered when she was gone. It took a long time for him to forgive her, and when he saw her, he just wanted her back. And the only reason she came back was because she loved him as much, and she just wanted to come back as what she always dreamed of being—independent, strong, and with a good career—and show that to him. She just wanted to be accepted.

Thank you, once again, for riding this roller coaster with me.


End file.
